Cry me a river
by fanfictionated
Summary: I was just a nerdy girl with ordinary friends, living a mildly boring and definitely uneventful life, that is until the day my best friend was bitten by a wolf. That small event was the catalyst for the colossal turn our lives took. Now, I have to choose between the resident brooding werewolf and my long-term best friend who suddenly realized his feelings for me. Derek/OC Stiles/OC
1. Wolf Moon

**Cry me a river – Chapter 1: Wolf Moon**

 **A/N: Hi! Sooo... I've been wanting to write a teen wolf fanfiction for a while now and after a marathon of tw, this idea popped into my mind and I decided to give it a try. I will develop the story slowly, following the show through all the seasons (assuming I don't get writer's block or 'preguicite aguda' which is portuguese for... well, I can't really think of a good translation right now but it basically means 'getting SUPER lazy' (I know, I know, bear with me xD). I apologize in advance for any mistakes (my english isn't perfect, far from it probably) since I'm not a native speaker and as such I will be making my fair share of them. I'm currently having an internal debate over who should end up with my OC, Derek or Stiles, since I pretty much have the story all planned out in my head except for that little detail, so despair not! There is hope for your ship! Just tell me who you prefer while reading the story and I'll make my final decision based on your (and mine of course :3) opinions! By the way, I guess I should warn you that I could go a while without updating (it takes me a lot of time to write these chapters). And by the way, I'll be making a lot of references to various things.**

 **Ups! I almost forgot the disclaimer! (Don't own anything you recognize)**

 **And now, with no more delays...*drums please*... Story time! YAY :D**

 **Enjoy! :3**

 **Okay I'll stop now, onto the story.**

 **Sorry xD**

* * *

Peace and quiet. I sighed, how I love it here.

I was lying in the hammock next to the stream that ran behind my house. I recalled the day my dad and I hanged it here when I was 8 years old. I had declared it my 'fortress of solitude', cue internal cringe. I know, I'm a total nerd.

I opened my eyes and stared at the darkening blue sky above, peaking through the foliage. The only sound that could be heard was the water from the stream splashing against the pebbles. There weren't even any birds singing, they'd already retired to their nests.

I contemplated the scenery, it really was beautiful, breathtaking if you ask me. I loved coming here and have been doing so for ten years.

I usually came here to read or reflect on my problems, it was a meditation of sorts. I even treated the stream as sacred ground, the last person I allowed to come here was Stiles 6 years ago, back when his mother died. My heart clenched for him, I couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd gone through.

I sat up in the hammock and picked up the discarded book (The Catcher in the Rye) that had been laying on the fallen tree trunk underneath me. I regularly used it as a side table and sometimes as a bench.

It was getting dark now, the sun was setting and I should start walking home, since my parents didn't want me out here at night. I got up and started walking but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard howling in the distance. Odd, that sounded like a wolf, which is impossible. There haven't been wolves around here in years. I shrugged my shoulders and kept walking, it was probably nothing.

Once I got home I searched for my mom and found her in the living room sitting on the couch among tons of papers with Bacon resting his head on her thigh. That sounded weird… Well let me clear it up, Bacon is our dog, not a meat product prepared from a pig. Although, I really wish I could have some bacon right now. Speaking of food…

"Hey, mom. What's for dinner tonight?"

My mom turned her head and smiled at me. Her dark brown hair was in a bun and she looked tired, probably because tomorrow was the first day back at school, and with her being a teacher and all…

The minute Bacon saw me he jumped of the couch and ran towards me. I crouched and petted the 2 year-old beagle as my mother appeared pensive.

"Humm… Your father is still at the hospital and on-call today, and I really don't feel like cooking, so…."

I held my breath and looked at her hopefully.

"Pizza?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Pizza." She confirmed chuckling a bit.

I fist pumped and smiled, which meant I stopped petting Bacon. The little ball of fur responded by licking my face. I made a face and planted a kiss on his head before I left, going upstairs to my room. Just as I was opening the door I remembered.

"Mom! Don't forget th-"

"Bacon, I know!" She yelled back before I could finish.

I smiled and looked behind me as Tommy's bedroom door opened and his head peeked into the hallway.

"Bacon? Are we having pizza for dinner?" He asked with wide eyes nearly covered by his light brown bangs.

"Yup." I said, popping the p.

"Dibs on the last slice!" He declared and retreated back into his room.

I narrowed my eyes at the now closed door. I taught him well, too well…

I finally entered my room and threw myself on the bed.

"Now to wait for the pizza. Hummm… What shall I do?" I said to no one in particular, since I was alone and all. I'm weird, I know.

I eyed my laptop resting on the wooden desk across the room and couldn't resist the temptation.

I grinned and jumped off the bed to go get it. It wasn't long until I was watching my all-time favorite brothers saving people, hunting things, ya know, the family business. Yes, there is something you should know about me… I am a huge supernatural fan, emphasis on the huge.

So I happily drooled over the hotness of Dean Winchester until the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of pizza dearest.

* * *

I had eaten my two slices of pizza (damn you Tommy!) and was now in my room, lying on the bed. I was dressed in my pajamas, once again glued to the computer screen watching the Winchesters trying to prevent the apocalypse.

Suddenly 'Smoke on the water' by Deep Purple started playing. I begrudgingly paused the episode and looked at the ringing phone.

Stiles was calling. I groaned and hit the answer button.

"This better be good! Dean was about to do pudding!" I said, with mock indignation.

"I'm not even going to ask… Meet me outside." Stiles replied.

"What? Why are you outside my house?" I inquired, with a hint of surprise in my voice due to being caught off guard.

"Just come on! I'll explain on the way to Scott's" He hang up and I stared at the phone.

"Hum… Rude." I whined at the phone.

I changed into black skinny jeans, threw on a black hoodie and put on black sneakers before exiting my room. No, I'm not goth or anything. I just figured we're probably going somewhere we're not supposed to be and this way I'll blend into the night. Ever the poetic, I know.

The hallway was dark and I moved over to my little brother's bedroom door. I peeked into his room and saw him sound asleep in his bed. I smiled at how cute he looked. If only he was that peaceful when he was awake… he looked like a little angel right now. Stiles and him were a lot alike now that I noticed, personality-wise that is.

There was no light coming from underneath my mother's bedroom door so I concluded it was safe to proceed. I began my descent down the stairs when one step creaked. I cringed and held my breath waiting for movement from upstairs that would indicate I would need to make a hasty exit back to my room. Fortunately, no such thing happened and I continued my silent walk to the living room and left the house through the bay window.

Once outside I saw Stiles in his jeep, gesturing for me to hurry. I climbed into the passenger seat and he took off.

"Now can I know why you so rudely interrupted my precious Winchester time?" I asked him with annoyance.

Stiles rolled his eyes but evidently perked up.

"You are not going to believe what just happened!" He said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him expectantly.

"So, my dad left fifteen minutes ago, dispatch called. They are bringing in every officer from Beacon Department and even State Police!" He added.

That piqued my interest.

"What? Why?" I questioned, now more willing to hear what he had to say.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." He replied.

"Wow. But if they _found_ the body, then why all the fuss? I mean why are so many officers being called in?" I asked him, feeling a bit confused.

"That's the best part…" He trailed off.

"Come on Stiles! The suspense is killing me! Spit it out already!" I urged him on.

"They only found half…" He said.

"Wow. We're going." I stated, grinning.

"We are so going!" He agreed, also breaking into a grin

"This is my chance to prove myself a Winchester! Then I can be worthy of Dean!" I said pumping my fist in the air.

"Seriously Lex?" Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"Don't you raise your eyebrows at me! A girl can only dream." I protested. "So, have you called Scott?"

"He's not answering his phone." He responded.

The jeep stopped and Stiles got out. I watched him make his way the McCall house and exited the car too, following him to the porch.

He started climbing the house to get to the second story as I looked incredulously at him.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" I whisper yelled at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm climbing to get to the window." He whisper yelled back.

"Why don't you just use the door?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He looked at me like I'd grown another head.

"Have you lost your mind? I knock, his mother wakes up. His mother wakes up, Scott can't come. Not to mention that if his mother wakes up, we won't get to go either because she'll tell _our_ parents where we are which we don't want for obvious reasons, dumbass."

"Stiles… his mother's car is not in the driveway… and besides my dad's on-call today and he said Melissa's there too." I told him, wanting to smack him but sadly unable to do so due to him being on the roof.

"Oh…" He said, caught by surprise.

"Yeah…I'll show who's the dumbass…dumbass" I grumbled, frowning.

Scott appeared in the porch holding a bat and suddenly Stiles dropped from the roof, hanging upside down.

They proceeded to scream at each other, while I just tried to hold in my laughter. God, they were such girls sometimes.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" Scott yelled at Stiles who was still hanging upside down from the roof.

"You weren't answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?" Stiles cried out.

"I thought you were a predator!" Scott replied.

"A pred-" Stiles sputtered.

I doubled over in laughter, which caused Scott to scream yet again.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" He snapped at me.

"Sorry, Scotty. Oh man, I wish I had filmed this. I would have had blackmail material for years!" I said sorrowfully thinking about the loss of that great opportunity.

"Thank the gods you didn't." Stiles said, visibly relieved.

"What do you want, anyways?" Scott asked us while frowning.

"Look, I know it's late but you've got to hear this! I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago, dispatch called. They are bringing in every officer from Beacon Department and even State Police!" Stiles announced.

"For what?" Scott asked, clearly confused.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Stiles replied, getting down from the roof and falling to the ground.

"A dead body?" Scott questioned as I scoffed and Stiles got up.

"No, a body of water." Stiles retorted sarcastically. "Yes, dumbass! A dead body!"

"You mean like murdered?" Scott inquired, making me think up all kinds of gruesome scenarios. I mean, the girl _was_ sawed in half after all. Who would do something like that? A psycho killer, obviously. Huh, that made me remember the song "Psycho killer" by Talking Heads.

 _Psycho Killer…_

"Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties." Stiles replied as he climbed onto the porch.

 _Qu'est-ce que c'est…_

"Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?" Scott asked, once again confused.

 _Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better…_

"That's the best part!" Stiles excitedly said.

 _Run run run run run run run away…_

"They only found half…" Stiles trailed off. "We're going, as soon as Lex comes back down to earth." He added, making Scott turn to look at me.

"Huh?" I looked back at them, reacting at hearing my name.

"You were a million miles away." Scott explained, looking amused.

"Oh..." I said.

They walked down the steps and joined me in walking towards the jeep. Once there, I climbed to the backseat as Scott took the front seat.

About ten minutes later we arrived at the Beacon Hills preserve.

"We're seriously doing this?" Scott asked as we got out of the jeep.

"You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town!" Stiles replied as he turned on his flashlight and we started walking through the woods.

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott protested.

" _Right!_ Cause sitting on the bench is such a _grueling_ effort." Stiles retorted as he rolled his eyes.

"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line." Scott declared.

"And I'm a unicorn!" I exclaimed.

Stiles laughed and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Sure Lex." He said. "Well, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream! Even a pathetic unrealistic one."

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" Scott inquired.

"Huh. I didn't even think about that." Stiles said.

"Argh, I hope it's not the bottom part. That would be disturbing." I cringed, imagining rather unpleasant scenarios.

Scott and Stiles both looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"Because finding the upper half would be so much better?" Stiles asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and Scott shook his head as Stiles rolled his eyes.

I gasped and stopped in my tracks, which made both boys also stop and look at me.

"What?" They asked at the same time.

"What if the killer is still out here?" I whispered, looking at them with wide eyes.

"Also something I didn't think about." Stiles said.

"You said they didn't know if it was a murder yet." Scott stated.

"Yeah, but come on Scott, who commits suicide in the woods? And it was a girl in her twenties, which means she was most likely healthy, so death due to health related issues can be ruled out." I exasperatedly said. "It's comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to details, Stiles." I groaned out.

"I know. But you also said that we needed to come!" Stiles refuted as we climbed a rather steep hill.

"Yeah! But that was before I knew that by the end of the night I would most likely be dead and buried in a shallow grave by a psycho killer!" I retorted.

"God, you are _so_ dramatic!" Stiles groaned out.

"Maybe the... severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" Scott said, breathing difficultly and wheezing as I looked back at him.

"You okay, Scotty?" I asked with concern for him.

"Yeah." He replied. "And don't worry, we won't let anything happen to you." He said smiling.

Before I could thank Scott, I saw Stiles at the top of the hill, dropping to his stomach and we followed his cue. There were policemen up ahead with dogs, searching the woods for the other half of the body.

"C'mon" Stiles said as he got up and began running. I got up and ran after him, suddenly wishing I had stayed home watching supernatural.

"Stiles, Lexie! Wait up!" Scott cried out.

I looked back and saw him using his inhaler. Once I made sure he'd gotten up, I continued to race after Stiles.

"Stiles!" Scott cried out again.

I looked back at him again, which I really shouldn't have because I missed a huge stick on the floor and promptly tripped on it.

I fell face first on the ground and groaned as I spit out leaves that had gotten in my mouth. I really need to watch where I step more.

Suddenly a dog started barking in front of Stiles and me, lying on the ground by his feet. I shrieked and Stiles fell to the ground on top of me, kicking the air right out of my lungs.

"Hold it right there!" Someone shouted at us.

"Hang on, Hang on." I heard a voice saying. Oh crap, I'm screwed. It was sheriff Stilinski. "This little delinquent belongs to me."

Stiles got off me, revealing my presence to his father in the process.

"Dad, how are doing?" Stiles questioned.

"Lexie? Is that you?" The sheriff inquired flashing his torch at me, still lying in the ground trying to catch my breath.

"No… I'm…Jo. Yeah, Jo Harvelle" I breathlessly said.

" _Right._ So, do you, huh, listen in to all my phone calls?" Sheriff Stilinsky asked his son.

"No, heh." Stiles replied to his dad as I got up from the ground, which was wet, may I add. "Not the boring ones."

Damn, my clothes are full of mud stains.

"So, where is your usual partner in crime?" The sheriff questioned, looking at us expectantly.

"Who, Scott? Sc-Scott's home." He said a little out of breath too. Ha! Serves him right for falling on me. "Right, Le-" He was cut off when I gave a pointed look. "Jo? He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep before first day back at school tomorrow. "

"I don't know who this Scott person is you speak of." I said with fake innocence.

The sheriff rolled his eyes at me.

"It's just me and Jo… in the woods… alone." Stiles said making his father raise his eyebrows.

"Scott, you out there?" Sheriff Stilinski called out, sweeping the woods with his flashlight. "Scott?"

When no response came he dropped the torch and sighed, apparently having given up on the idea that Scott was out here with us. That lucky dog…

"Well young man and _Ms. Harvelle,_ I'm going to walk you back to your car, and you and I are going to have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy."

I followed Stiles and his dad back to where he'd left the jeep as the sheriff berated us for being out here at night.

"Now, you are going to drive Lexie home and then _you_ are going to go home. You hear me? No more clandestine meetings and I don't want to be seeing either of you in the near _or_ long future somewhere you're not supposed to be. Is that understood?"

"Aye aye, sir" I said at the same time Stiles said "Yes, dad".

We got in the jeep and Stiles pulled off the Beacon Hills preserve under his father's watchful eyes.

"You think Scott's alright?" I asked Stiles, when we were already on the road back to my house, feeling a little nervous for my other best friend.

"Yeah! I bet he's fine." He said, dismissing me.

"I hope your right." I mumbled and sighed, looking out the window into the now dark and eerie woods. They seemed to hold the promise of danger as the tree leaves swayed slightly in the night breeze. I looked further into the trees and a pair of glowing red eyes seemed to be staring back at me. Weird.

Stiles pulled over at my house and I walked to the living room's bay window, which I'd left unlocked. I thanked the gods as I confirmed it was still how I'd left it.

I slipped into the living room, locking the window and made my way upstairs were I changed into my pajamas again, throwing the mud stained clothing in the dirty clothes box. I brushed my teeth and threw myself on the queen size bed, suddenly feeling extremely exhausted.

Sleep came soon enough and I welcomed it with open arms, figuratively speaking of course. I don't even know how that sentence could be interpreted literally.

* * *

A shrill noise rang in my ears, making me groan and roll over in bed. Much to my displeasure, the ear-piercing noise took no pity on me, so I reluctantly sat up and hit the stop button on the alarm clock.

I got up and walked towards the bathroom to check my appearance in the mirror. My hair looked like a rats nest, Argh. I tried to make it look more presentable and changed into some black ripped skinny jeans, a baby blue blouse and my favorite pair of all stars. Satisfied with the result, I exited the room and made my way downstairs to the kitchen for a much needed breakfast.

My mom and Tommy were already in the kitchen and I assumed my dad was still in bed sleeping after being on-call last night. My brother was sitting in a kitchen bench having breakfast and my mother was washing her bowl apparently having already finished eating. Bacon was lying in his doggy bed and lifted his head to look at me through almost closed lids.

"Good Morning!" I greeted my family as I sat in the chair next to Tommy and ruffled his hair.

"Good morning, honey." My mother said at the same time the 8 year-old sleepily mumbled "Good morning."

I poured some milk into my bowl and reached for the Cheerios, dumping a good amount of the cereal in the milk and started eating like there was no tomorrow. Yup, I am one of those people who are always hungry in the morning.

"So… Lexie, you want to tell me what you and Stiles were up to last night?" My mother asked me with a not-so-friendly face and raised eyebrows, stopping what she was doing so she could stare at me.

I choked on the cereals I was eating and groaned, banging my head on the table. I should have known better than to think the Sheriff wouldn't rat me out to my mother.

"In a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?" I cringingly questioned my mother, whose response was to glare at me, clearly annoyed. "I'm really sorry mom, it won't happen again." I said as I picked up two toasts.

"I hope not. But I'm still revoking your right to watch TV, and you're not allowed to go to the stream." She replied.

"Bu-wh-" I sputtered. "For how long?" I inquired, pouting at her.

"A month. Oh, and no pizza either." She declared.

My jaw dropped and I whined at her. _Not the pizza_!

Resigned, I concentrated on my toasts until we heard a car honking two times, signaling Stiles arrival.

My mother was a math teacher at Beacon Elementary, therefore she could take my baby bro to school but couldn't drive me to Beacon High. My father wasn't really an option either because at this time of the day he was either working or resting after a long shift, so I usually just took a ride from Stiles.

I got up from my chair and grabbed my black leather jacket, which was resting on the coat rack, with my left hand, since my right was still holding a half-eaten toast. I blew a kiss to my mom and planted one on my brother's head before hurrying to the front door while pulling on my jacket and eating the rest of the toast.

I got in the passenger seat of the jeep and fastened my seatbelt before looking at Stiles.

"Morning." He said whilst pulling off the driveway.

"Good morning." I greeted him cheerfully. I woke up feeling particularly cheery today. Strange.

"Someone's awfully happy today." He commented and raised his eyebrows.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Have you talked to Scott since last night?" I asked, remembering our best friend, who was left alone in the woods with a psycho killer on the loose last night. Maybe we should have told the sheriff he was with us…

"Yup. He's okay, don't worry. No run-ins with psychotic serial killers." He placated me. Huh, sometimes it was like he could read my mind. "Though he did get bitten by something."

"What?" I exclaimed, turning to look at him.

"I don't know, he didn't say." Stiles replied.

"No, I mean… Forget it." I shook my head. "Is he really okay?"

"He's coming to school today, so I guess he is." He added.

We were silent the rest of the way.

About ten minutes later, Stiles made a right-hand turn into the school and parked his jeep. We exited the car and made our way up to the school, where we found Scott waiting for us.

"Okay, let's see this thing." Stiles requested as we both approached Scott.

He lifted his shirt, grunting a bit, and revealed a huge gauze bandage. Stiles made a whistling sound and touched it.

"Don't touch it!" I scolded him and batted his hand away.

"Don't hit me!" He responded with a frown.

"It was too dark to see much but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf." Scott said.

"A wolf bit you?" Stiles questioned.

"Are you sure it was a wolf? There haven't been many wolves around here for years." I told Scott.

"I heard a wolf howling" Scott added.

"No, you didn't." Stiles stated.

"What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?" Scott scoffed.

"Because California doesn't have wolves, okay? Not in like sixty years." Stiles explained looking amused.

"Really?" Scott asked, stopping in his tracks and making me and Stiles turn back to look at him.

"Yes, really! There are no wolves in California." Stiles replied, looking a bit annoyed.

"Well… I read somewhere that wolves are migratory, and they have long term memories. So they could have come back." I said, remembering a book I had read a while ago.

Scott and Stiles looked at me, a bit surprised.

"Where did you read that?" Stiles inquired, making me look down embarrassed.

"A book called Shiver…" I mumbled.

"And what was that one about? Werewolves?" Stiles scoffed.

I just narrowed my eyes at him, mostly annoyed with the fact that he'd gotten it right. Damn it, he knew me too well. Stiles took my silence as proof that he was right and flashed me a proud grin.

"You may have won this battle, but you'll lose the war, Stilinski." I groaned out.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of how right I am." Stiles countered.

"Alright." Scott said, the corners of his moth turning up slightly. "Well, if you don't believe me about the wolf… then you're definitely not going to believe me about when I tell you I found the body."

"You-are you kidding me?" Stiles sputtered and I looked at Scott in shock.

"I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month." Scott replied.

"That is freaking awesome." Stiles declared I nodded in agreement.

"Which half?" I asked, a bit curious.

"Huh?" They both said.

"Which half of the body was it?" I clarified.

"Oh. The upper half." Scott revealed.

"Whoa. This is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since… the birth of Lydia Martin." Stiles dreamingly added as said girl walked past us.

I rolled my eyes him. Lydia Martin had always annoyed me ever since we were kids. I really had no clue as to why Stiles fawned over her like she was the most perfect human being in all of existence, even back then. She was the typical mean girl, queen bee, grade A bitch that inhabited every high school in the world.

Scott used to tease me about being jealous, but he quickly learned not to. Cue evil laugh.

"Hey Lydia! You look…" Stiles called out to her as she passed him, not even sparing a glance. "Like you're gonna ignore me."

"You're the cause of this. You know?" Stiles complained. "Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet nerded by you" He added as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of classes.

I scoffed and Scott rolled his eyes as we all headed to our first class of the day, English.

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night." Mr. Westover began talking as he wrote ' _Kafka's Metamorphosis_ ' on the board.

I was sitting by the window, in the third seat counting from the back. Scott was to my right and Stiles was behind me. We exchanged looks as the teacher mentioned the body Scott claimed to have found yesterday. Well… half of it anyway.

"And I'm sure you're eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I…am here… to tell you…that the police have a suspect in custody…" Scott and I changed confused looks at that piece of information and we both looked at Stiles for an explanation. He just shrugged his shoulders gesturing that he didn't know what Mr. Westover was talking about. "…which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester." The teacher said as I reluctantly picked up said syllabus.

I was studying it as the door opened, stealing my attention to the person entering the room. It was the vice principal, followed by a brunette girl who looked a bit nervous. I felt sorry for her, being the new girl must suck.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome." He announced before leaving the room.

I watched her walking towards us and looked at Scott who was completely captivated by her. I snorted making him look at me. I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows at him, which made him roll his eyes at me. The new girl passed by us and took the seat behind Scott.

Suddenly he turned around and offered her a pen, which she accepted looking confused but smiling and thanking him nonetheless.

I looked back at Stiles searching for an explanation but he just shrugged and threw me an equally confused look.

The rest of the class passed by excruciatingly slowly, but eventually the bell rang, releasing me and the rest of the class from Mr. Westover's reign of terror. Seriously, this is mental abuse!

Scott and Stiles got up from their chairs to head to the lockers and stopped by my side. I was still passing some notes from the board so I gestured them to go on without me.

After I was done, I gathered my stuff and joined them at our lockers, which were strategically close to each other. Oh, me and my evil schemes…

Stiles was arguing with a girl and Scott seemed completed absorbed in watching Allison speak with Lydia and Jackson across the hallway. I snapped my fingers in front of him, bringing him back to reality.

"Back from la la land?" I asked him with an amused look.

Scott blushed and looked away. "No, I was just…" He trailed off.

"Being completely love-struck by the new girl?" I finished for him with a grin, watching him squirm.

He blushed harder causing me to laugh and Stiles to interrupt his argument with the unknown girl to look at us confused.

"What happened?" He inquired.

"Our Scotty is in love!" I dramatically exclaimed, bringing both my hands to my heart.

"Am _not_. Shut up!" Scott said, looking like a tomato now.

"Your face tells a different story." Stiles countered, making Scott fall silent.

I snickered and high fived Stiles as the bell rang. I groaned and followed them to our next class.

The rest of the day went by in a similar way to our first class, but eventually it was over and it was time for the boy's lacrosse practice. Which I was forced to assist since Stiles was my ride home.

They made their way to the boy's locker room while I headed to the bleachers and sat down.

After a while, I spotted them entering the field and waved at them. Stiles waved back and Scott locked his eyes on someone else. I looked in the direction he was staring at, already expecting to see Allison there, and saw the brunette smiling and heading towards me.

"Hi! You're in my English class,right?" She greeted as she sat next to me. Much to my displeasure, Lydia followed her and also sat, looking equally reluctant to be next to me.

"Hey. Yup" I replied, surprised that she remembered me.

Allison turned to the field and smiled at Scott who was still ogling her. _Smooth_ Scott, I internally scoffed. He smiled back but was harshly snapped out of his daydream as coach started yelling in his face.

"Who are you, again?" Lydia questioned, looking at me like I was a piece of gum stuck to her shoe: disgusting and annoying.

"The girl you've known since you were four years old." I replied rolling my eyes. As if she didn't know who I was.

Allison raised eyebrows at Lydia and I tried to stifle a laugh. Ha! Please apply cold water to that burn, bitch _._ Serves her right.

"I'm Lexie." I added, now talking to Allison, who actually _didn't_ know who I was.

"Allison." She said with a smile. She struck me as a nice girl despite of being the current obsession of Lydia. Poor girl. "Who is that?" She asked and I followed her gaze to Scott who had apparently been placed on goal.

"Him? I'm not sure who he is." Lydia responded.

"That's Scott. Why?" I questioned, ignoring Lydia and curious to see if Scott's crush was requited.

"Oh, he's in my english class." Allison replied.

"Does someone have a crush?" I joked, grinning at her.

"No, I just…" She trailed off, blushing.

Suddenly a whistle was blown and Scott doubled over holding his head in his hands.

"Is he okay?" Allison asked, sounded concerned.

I looked at Scott, also concerned, and saw a ball being hurled at him. It hit him in the face and he fell backwards.

"Hey, way to catch with your face McCall!" Greenberg mocked.

I jumped from my seat, suddenly feeling enraged.

"Hey Greenberg! How about you shut _yours_ before I hurl something else at it!" I yelled, mumbling obscenities under my breath.

Allison looked at me clearly surprised and Stiles turned around in the bench he was sitting on in front of us to look at me. He was already used to my outbursts though.

Hey, I couldn't pride myself of being Winchester worthy if I didn't stand up against injustice sometimes.

"Settle down, Rivers!" Coach Finstock yelled back at me and I sat back down, still irritated.

"C'mon Scott." I muttered under my breath.

Scott got up and another guy started running towards him. However, this time Scott was able to catch the ball with his stick. I looked at him in shock and broke into a grin. Another guy came and Scott once again caught the ball. My jaw dropped and I jumped yet again from my seat.

"Go Scotty!" I urged him on.

He caught another ball, and another, and another… I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This is a miracle! Divine intervention! I swept my eyes over the field, half expecting to see an angel somewhere. Unfortunately, no Castiel was sighted. Cue ugly crying.

"He seems like he's pretty good." Allison commented.

"Yeah, very good." Lydia replied.

Suddenly Jackson started racing towards Scott. I cringed, knowing he wasn't known for his gentle ways, he was in fact a gigantic asshole and spoiled brat, much like his girlfriend.

Surprisingly though, Scott was able to catch it.

I got up again, followed by Lydia, and we both cheered (weird right?) while Stiles also celebrated our best friend's win.

* * *

"I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball." Scott explained his miraculous performance in the field today as we treaded across a stream. "And that's not the only weird thing. I can… hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear, smell things…"

"Smell things? Like what?" Stiles asked and we both stopped to look at Scott.

"Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket." Scott replied, also stopping.

"I don't even have any mint mojito…" Stiles trailed off as he indeed discovered a mint mojito gum in his pocket.

"Mine!" I declared as I snatched it from his hand and popped it into my mouth with a grin. He responded by narrowing his eyes at me but then smiled mischievously. I dropped my grin and looked at him with dread. "What?" I hesitantly asked.

"Tell me, Lexie, are you still ticklish?" He asked, flashing me a wicked smile and making my stomach drop.

"You wouldn't d-" I couldn't finish that sentence because the little bastard attacked me. Apparently he _would_ dare. I tried to escape his grasp by throwing kicks and punches while laughing uncontrollably but he managed to evade most them. I continued struggling and was able to push him off me, which made him lose balance and fall backwards. However, he grabbed my arms, bringing me down with him and we both landed on the stream.

I grunted, getting up and checking my clothes, which were completely soaked through. I wrapped my black leather jacket tighter around me trying to cover up the fact that my bra was now visible through my blouse.

Stiles sat up groaning and clutching his back.

"I think you broke my back." He whined.

"Please, if your spine was broken you would be paraplegic, and it was _your_ fault we fell. And anyway, _now_ who's being dramatic?" I scoffed at him and looked at Scott, who was currently laughing his ass off.

"C'mon guys, we've got to find my inhaler." Scott said, after sobering up, reminding us the reason why we came here in the first place.

I jumped off of the stream and Stiles finally got up, joining us as we once again treaded through the woods.

"Hey, what if I have like, and infection from the bite? What if my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?" Scott mused.

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this." Stiles announced, surprising us. "It's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" Scott asked at the same time I said "You have?"

"Yeah." Stiles confirmed. "Yeah, I think it's called… lycanthropy."

I stifled a laugh at Scott's reaction.

"What is that? Is that bad?" Scott inquired, looking genuinely confused.

"Oh, the ignorance…" I sighed, earning a strange look from Scott.

"Oh yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month." Stiles added.

"Once a month?" Scott questioned, eating it up and I couldn't contain my laughter anymore.

Stiles howled and Scott huffed and pushed him away. I followed Scott as he walked away, clearly annoyed at us.

"Hey! You're the one who heard a wolf howling!" Stiles said, defending himself as he jogged to catch up to Scott.

"Hey! There could be something seriously wrong with me!" Scott cried.

"I know! You're a werewolf!" Stiles added and growled to prove his point. "Okay obviously I'm kidding, but if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's because Friday's a full moon." He joked as Scott stopped and looked at the ground.

"No, I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler." Scott explained, crouching down to search for his inhaler.

"Maybe the killer moved the body." Stiles suggested.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler, those things are like eighty bucks." Scott replied.

I crouched down next to Scott to help him search the ground when suddenly Stiles nudged Scott who got up looking at something behind me.

I frowned at them, confused, and turned around. I shrieked and fell on my butt from the scare, not expecting to see someone standing there. I quickly got up and stared at the newcomer.

He was dressed in a black shirt, black jeans and black leather jacket. His black hair was cut short and he had a strong jaw. He walked towards us and I noticed his eyes were a pale shade of green.

He was hot. Yup, really hot. Wow, I really need to stop thinking about that before… Okay, Let's not go there. Although, he was really hot… he could be the Mcsteamy to my Lexie, the Clark to my to Lex, the Stefan to my Lexi… I really need to get out more…

I realized I was staring and looked away, blushing. I then realized I was soaking wet in front of a complete stranger (who just so happened to be handsome) and turned even redder. I probably looked like a tomato. Correction: A wet tomato.

"What are you doing here?" He asked with a sexy voice. Is _everything_ about him hot? How is that possible? "Huh? This is private property." He stated, while I tried to look everywhere _but_ at him.

He stopped a couple feet away from us and I realized he was tall. Not as tall as moose, of course (it's practically impossible to be taller than moose), but pretty tall nonetheless. And his hotness rivaled Dean's!

"Huh, sorry man. We didn't know." Stiles apologized, seemingly nervous.

"Yeah we were just… looking for something, but…" Scott trailed off and sexy stranger raised his eyebrows at him. "Forget it." Scott added.

Suddenly, sexy stranger pulled something out of his pocket and threw it at Scott, who promptly caught it. It was his inhaler.

Sexy stranger looked at Stiles and then he's gaze landed on me. I felt smothered and looked down at my feet, letting my golden hair cover my face. I wonder what he thinks of me. I felt his gaze leave me and looked up, watching him walk away from us.

"Alright, I gotta get to work." Scott announced.

"Dude, that was Derek Hale!" Stiles said. Sooo… sexy stranger's name was Derek… that's a sexy name… "You remember right? He's only like a few years older than us."

"Remember what?" Scott and I asked at the same time, equally confused.

"His family. They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago." Stiles replied, making me instantly feel bad for the guy. Losing his whole family like that… that was horrible.

"I wonder what he's doing back." Scott said.

I shrugged my shoulders and trailed after Stiles, who was my ride home.

* * *

It was Thursday and I was in the school's hallway by my locker when Stiles suddenly appeared behind me looking anxious.

"Is everything okay? You look nervous." I questioned.

"Well..." He trailed off. "I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab and they found animal hairs on the body."

"Okay…" I said, uncertain where he was going with this.

"The animal hairs, they were from a wolf." He revealed, looking at me.

I stayed silent and raised my eyebrows at him. "Okay." I added, uncertain and sounding more like I was asking a question.

"Oka-" He sputtered. "Do you what this means?" He cried out.

"That I was right and wolves _ar_ e migratory?" I inquired, closing my locker's door.

"No! It means the joke from the other day, not a joke anymore." He stated.

"Are you serious? You actually think Scott's turning into a werewolf?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows at him in disbelief.

"Yes!" He exclaimed.

"Right, okay. Whatever you say, Stiles." I rolled my eyes at him.

He huffed and then headed for the field as I trailed after him. Once we got there, Stiles spotted Scott and hurried over to his side. Probably to tell him about the most recent development in the case.

"Wait up!" Stiles called out to Scott.

"Stiles, I'm playing the first elimination, man. Can it wait?" Scott inquired.

"Just hold on, okay?" Stiles asked. "I overheard my dad on the phone, the fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods!"

"Stiles, I gotta go" Scott said as he jogged over to the field.

"Wait! Scott, no!" Stiles cried out, trying to make him stop but with no such luck. "You're not going to believe what the animal was! It was a wolf…" He trailed off.

Coach blew his whistle and I watched as Scott and Stiles joined the other players on the field. Scott waved at someone passing by and I looked over only to confirm my suspicions. Yup, it was Allison. I internally snickered.

They started playing and Scott caught the ball. However he didn't get very far before he was rammed into by Jackson. After that, Scott was able to recover the ball and he evaded most of the players on the field, actually _jumping_ over three of them and doing a freaking black flip.

My jaw dropped in shock as he scored a goal. I thought back to what Stiles said. Could it be possible that Scott was actually turning into a werewolf? I dismissed that thought as coach called Scott over and started scolding him but actually ended up placing him in first line.

After the practice I headed to Stiles jeep and waited there for him. About three minutes later he arrived and we both got in the vehicle before pulling off the school's parking lot.

"Now do you believe me?" Stiles inquired.

"I don't know what to believe." I muttered.

"C'mon! What Scott did was virtually impossible, even you have to admit that." Stiles said.

"Yeah, but werewolves..." I trailed off. "It's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

"What better explanation do you have? This all started with a bite. You know Scott sucked as bad as me at lacrosse before it happened. And no one gets that good at something overnight."

I reflected over it and relented.

"Okay, let's assume Scott _is_ turning into a werewolf. What are we supposed to do?" I inquired.

"Find a way to make him believe it, so he doesn't unintentionally kill someone tomorrow." Stiles replied.

Right. Tomorrow was a full moon, not to mention his big date with Allison. I cringed, talking him out of that date was going to be no easy task.

I sighted my house but was confused when Stiles drove by it without stopping.

"Humm…Stiles? You just passed my house." I stated, throwing him a strange look.

"You're not going home." He explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm not?" I asked, feeling confused.

"Nope, you're helping me with research." He clarified.

"On…" I trailed off, waiting for him to finish.

"Werewolves. Duh." He stated.

I texted my mom to let her know Stiles and I were heading over to his house for some school related research (white lie) and waited for her response. It came five minutes later, asking how long I was going to be out. I texted back her back, saying I'd be back before dinner.

Stiles drove to his house and we headed to his room, where we commenced our research. Stiles scoured the web for any bit of information on werewolves while I searched the police records and obituaries of Beacon Hills on his dad's laptop. If Scott was bitten by a werewolf, chances are he chose Beacon Hills for a reason. So either he's been here before, knows about other werewolves that have been before or are here at the moment or… he just randomly picked this town, which is highly unlikely. All that time of watching supernatural is finally paying off!

I was reading through the obituaries when I found the article on the Hale fire, remembering our last encounter with the dark and mysterious Derek Hale. Apparently Derek and his sister, Laura, had been at school at the time of the fire and survived the tragedy. No one else survived the fire though, according to the official reports.

"Stiles, I should get going. I told my mom I'd be back before dinner." I said after a while, when I noticed the time. He looked at me and momentarily forgot the werewolf related text he was reading.

"Call her back and say you're staying longer." He replied.

"How long will it take to finish the research?" I asked.

"I don't know." He responded, shrugging his shoulders. "Tell her you're staying the night."

"Where not eight anymore, Stiles." I raised my eyebrows at him, remembering the last actual sleepover we had together.

"What? It's not like we'll be doing…stuff. Research, remember? And besides, you're like my sister, _Eww_." He defended himself, making faces.

I shrugged my shoulders and decided give it a try and call my mom. Much to my surprise, she allowed me to stay over, after she made sure the sheriff was home. I'll have to ask her about that later.

We ate pizza for dinner (cue evil laugh) and spent the next hours reading about werewolves, wolfs bane, ancient legends… Basically by the end of the night, my mind was swarming with all sorts of knowledge about supernatural creatures.

Somewhere around two in the morning, I had passed out in Stiles bed, surrounded by piles of printed werewolf information that I had been highlighting for highly possible, possibly true and highly doubtful things that could happen to Scott.

I woke up with a start when there was a knock on the door, feeling momentarily disoriented by not being in my room, or bed for that matter. But I soon enough remembered everything that happened last night, including Scott's imminent lycanthrope problems. Speaking of the devil, Stiles opened the door, revealing a grinning Scott who spotted me on the bed and looked at Stiles confused.

"You had a sleepover and didn't tell me?" He asked Stiles, surprised.

"Wha-no! Get in. You gotta see this thing." Stiles instructed Scott. "We've been up all night reading websites, books… Well, _I_ 've been up all night reading, Lex was just sleeping." He corrected as Scott sat on the bed beside me.

"Hey! I helped!" I protested, still a bit groggy from sleep.

"Please, you were just drooling and snoring." Stiles countered.

"Hey! I do _not_ snore!" I retorted and scoffed.

"Okay, anyways, just listen Scott." Stiles said.

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked.

"A lot, doesn't matter…" Stiles trailed off.

"Is this about the body? Did they found out who did it?" Scott inquired.

"No. They're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale." Stiles added, piquing my interest. So tall dark and mysterious was a person of interest in the case.

"Oh. The guy in the woods that we saw the other day." Scott said.

"Yeah, yes!" Stiles confirmed, waving around his arms frantically. "But that's not it, okay?"

"What then?" Scott questioned.

"Remember the joke from the other day?" Stiles replied.

"Not a joke anymore." I tentatively added, looking at Scott who just seemed confused.

"The wolf, the bite in the woods!" Stiles explained. "I started doing all this reading. Do you even know _why_ a wolf howls?"

"Should I?" Scott asked.

"It's a signal. When a wolf is alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack." I clarified.

"Exactly! So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe a whole pack of them." Stiles added.

"A whole pack of wolves?" Scott asked, still looking confused.

"No. Werewolves." Stiles replied.

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour." Scott protested getting up from the bed and grabbing his backpack.

"We saw you in the field today, Scott, okay? What you did wasn't just amazing, alright? It was impossible." Stiles explained.

"Yeah, so I made a good shot." Scott said, shrugging his shoulders.

"No! You made an incredible shot!" Stiles cried out, grabbing Scott's backpack and dumping it on the bed as I got up. "I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes! You know people can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the senses and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore!"

"Okay, dude! I can't think about this now! We'll talk tomorrow!" Scott exclaimed.

"Tomorrow? No! The full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?" Stiles protested.

"What are you trying to do? I just made first line, I got a date with a girl I c-c-can't believe wants to go out with me and everything in my life is somehow perfect! Why are you trying to ruin it?" Scott snapped as Stiles sat back down in his chair and started going through some papers.

"We're just trying to help, Scotty." I pleaded with him.

"Your cursed, Scott. And it's not just the moon that causes you to physically change, it also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak" Stiles added.

"Bloodlust?" Scott asked, looking at us in disbelief.

"Yeah, your urge to kill." Stiles explained.

"I'm already starting to feel the urge to kill, Stiles." Scott replied.

"You have to hear this." Stiles declared as he reached for a book. "The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse. Alright? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You've got to cancel this date. You've got to call her right now."

Stiles jumped from his chair and moved over to the bed, searching through Scott's backpack.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked, addressing Stiles.

"I'm cancelling the date-" Stiles replied.

"No!" Scott cried out as he grabbed Stiles by his shirt and pushed him against the wall. "Give it to me!"

"Scott!" I yelled, looking at him in shock and…fear.

I was glued to the spot as I watched Scott raise his right arm, forming a fist.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Scott had never _ever_ acted this way towards any of us before. Sure there was that time when his father left, in which he became understandingly more prone to verbal assaults, but nothing like this had ever happened back then. Scott had always been a peaceful person.

So I could do nothing but stare as he let out an angry roar and punched the chair in which Stiles previously sat, making it fall over.

"Sorry." He apologized, panting a bit. "I gotta go get ready… for that party."

I just continued to look at him in shock as he walked over to the bed to pick up his backpack. He stopped at the door and apologized again, looking back at us, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him, for which I felt embarrassed. Was I actually scared of my best friend?

After that, he left, closing the door.

I looked at Stiles, who banged his head on the wall and proceeded to walk over to the fallen chair, pulling it up. The back of the chair faced us and we gasped, as three distinctive claw marks made the harsh truth obvious.

"Oh my god." I gasped, looking at the chair. I didn't want to believe it, but now there was no denying it. Scott really was a werewolf, and now we had to figure out a way to help him that didn't get us (or anyone else for that matter) killed in the progress. "We've gotta go to that party Stiles. We've got to stop him before he hurts someone."

"Are you sure you want to go? You could be the one ending up hurt." He asked, looking back at me concerned.

"I know. Hell, I'm mostly counting on it, but I'm not going to sit back as he turns into a werewolf, possibly if not surely killing _everyone_ at that party, most likely ending up in a science lab somewhere being tested on or even starting a supernatural _war_ and getting killed by the military." I babbled on.

"That escalated pretty quickly." Stiles commented, raising his eyebrows at me. "But seriously now, _not_ thinking about apocalyptic worst case scenarios. If things go south, you run, okay?"

"Only if you do to." I said.

"Fine." He relented. "But promise."

"I pinky swear." I replied, raising my hand to which he rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

"I'm not pinky swearing." He huffed, making me narrow his eyes at him. "Fine… I pinky swear."

* * *

It was my turn to keep watch over Scott, who I saw dance with Allison from my strategic place by the window while Stiles mingled.

Stiles and I had swung by my house earlier, for me to prepare for the party and tell my mom about it of course. I changed out of the skinny jeans and shirt I had sleep in the night before and washed my face before reapplying my make-up, keeping it light like I always do. I picked out an anthropology Dulcie dress I had bought recently and still hadn't had a chance to use, and put on my single pair of wedge heels.

I didn't make a habit out of dressing this nicely (mostly because I was too lazy), so it was fun to see the surprised look on Stiles' face as I joined him in the jeep again.

I was brought back from that memory as I realized Scott had left Allison and started heading towards the house. I disposed of my empty cup and left my spot to go find Stiles. I found him near the front door with a group of guys from school.

"Hey, Stiles!" I called him over, trying to get his attention.

"Did something happen?" He inquired.

"Yeah, something's wrong. Scott just left Allison and he's heading here. He doesn't look too good." I replied, spotting Scott, who was stumbling a bit.

"Scott, you good?" Stiles asked Scott, as he passed us with a pained expression on his face.

"Lexie wait here." Stiles ordered me.

"Why? What are you gonna do?" I asked, but he was already out of my hearing range as he raced after Scott.

I tried to follow him, pushing through the masses of people, which was harder due to being only 5 ft and 2 inches tall among 5 ft and 5 inches tall teenage boys. When I was finally able to get outside, I saw Stiles' jeep taking off after Scott's car as I was walking down the steps. Great, I was stranded. I'm totally going to kick Stiles' sorry ass the next time I see him, especially since he did _exactly_ what he promised he wouldn't do and ran after Scott. _Argh_ , idiot!

"Stranded too, huh?" I asked Allison, who was staring disbelievingly at Scott's disappearing car.

She whirled around, surprised, and smiled as her eyes landed on me.

"Hi, yeah. Do you know what happened? I mean, you were here with Stiles, right? He's Scott's best friend." She inquired.

"No! Well, I mean… yes, I was here with Stiles. But _not_ as a dat-!" I added quickly but was interrupted by a voice whose source was behind me.

"Allison." I whirled around and was shocked to see Derek Hale, looking as hot as he had the first time I saw him, as his gaze landed on me. "Lexie. I'm a friend of Scott's. My name's Derek."

I looked at him with surprise. How did dark and handsome know my name, was he a mind reader? My heart skipped a beat as I reflected upon that thought with horror, it could be possible, with werewolves roaming around, telepathy wasn't that much of a stretch. As if to prove my point he raised his eyebrows at me. Oh god, this is embarrassing. Please don't think dirty thoughts, _please_ (worse than the ones I already thought, that is).

I suddenly remembered reading somewhere that a good way to take your mind of something was to recite the alphabet backwards. Okay, here I go.

 _Z…_

 _Y…_

 _X…_

 _W…_

Derek and Allison were both looking at me now and I realized I completely missed something Derek said.

"Huh?" I asked, embarrassed.

"I said, Scott asked me to give you a ride home." He repeated, with an annoyed look in his face.

"Oh. Okay." I agreed before actually thinking it through.

I then remembered that Derek was a person of interest in the case of the body found in the woods and internally cringed. Oh god, I hope he doesn't kill me and/or Allison, I really don't want to be sawed in half and Scott would literally kill me (now that he's a werewolf) if Allison died because of me.

 _Oh my god_ , he can hear me! I totally forgot about that. Please don't kill me, _pretty please_?

He started walking over to his car and gestured us to follow him. I hesitantly trailed after him and looked back at Allison who seemed equally reluctant.

We walked over to his car, a black Camaro (is everything he owns black?) and Allison reached for the door at the same time I did. I realized she didn't want to ride in the front with a complete stranger and let her have the back seat, receiving a look of gratitude.

I thought back to my first encounter with Derek and I my stomach dropped as I realized he had heard all of my thoughts. I turned red like a tomato and tried to look anywhere but at him

 _V…_

 _U…_

 _T…_

 _S…_

"Where do you live, Allison?" Derek asked and the teen girl proceeded to give him directions to her house.

 _R…_

 _Q…_

 _P…_

 _O…_

"So, Lexie, do you know what happened to Scott? You didn't get to answer before." Allison asked and I looked back at her.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Not really, but he probably had somewhere _super_ important to go if he left you, nothing else would have made him leave." I told Allison, who perked up a bit at that piece of information.

You totally owe me, Scotty. Assuming I don't get brutally murdered and sawed in half by the dark handsome psychic boy over here, that is.

 _N…_

 _M…_

 _L…_

"You think?" She questioned, looking hopeful.

"I _know_ , trust me. That boy has been obsessing over this date for a week." I replied, which seemed to appease her.

 _K…_

 _J…_

 _I…_

 _H…_

Derek pulled over at what I assumed was Allison's house and I exited the car so she could leave too.

She thanked Derek for the ride and said goodbye to us before walking away, heading to the front door.

I looked back at the car, realizing that now I had to get in it again. Alone with a possible psychotic killer (who just so happened to be hot). _Damn you, Lexie Rae Rivers!_

I internally berated myself for thinking bad thoughts in front of him and very reluctantly got back in the black Camaro as Derek pulled off.

"You should stay away from your friend if you know what's good for your health." He stated.

"I'm not going to leave Scott alone when he obviously needs his friends." I protested, frowning at him.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of 'it's your funeral' before focusing his attention back on the road.

I sized him up and concluded that the night favored him, making him look extra dark and mysterious. Okay, exactly the kind of thoughts I do _not_ want to be thinking around him. Back to the alphabet!

 _G…_

 _F…_

 _E…_

 _D…_

My phone beeped and I looked down at it discovering a new text from Stiles. 'Following Scott. Will come back for you later'.

I texted him back, saying that me and Allison had gotten a ride from Derek Hale and looked up from my phone back at said person.

 _C..._

 _B…_

 _A._

"You're going to go meet with him after dropping me off, aren't you?" I asked him. "Scott, I mean."

"Yes." He simply replied.

"Well, then I'm going." I determinedly said, looking at him and daring him to contradict me.

"No." He stated, irritating me.

"What do you mean, no? Scott's one of my best friends! And I am _not_ going to leave him alone with you to be sawn in half!" I snapped.

"No." He simply said, _again_ , throwing me an unamused look _._ Is he deliberately _trying_ to infuriate me?

"Are those the only two words you know?" I huffed in annoyance.

"No." He replied, looking at me and smirking as my jaw dropped.

I angrily snapped it shut and looked out the car window, realizing I could see my house. He pulled over and I got out of the black Camaro, closing the car's door with a little more force than necessary.

He drove away from my house and I made my way to the front door, opening it and stepping inside. Only there did I realize I'd never given instructions to my house.

"Mom, I'm home." I yelled out to my mom who appeared from the living room.

"Did you have fun, honey?" She asked me.

Technically, I was still grounded for running off into the woods in the middle of the night with Scott and Stiles last week, but my mom was already used to this kind of thing from us, so she relented when I asked her about the party. Probably because I almost never went to one.

"Yeah." I said, shrugging my shoulders.

I walked upstairs and entered my room, throwing myself on the bed. I groaned and turned over, feeling exhausted.

So my best friend was a werewolf, who would probably end up sawn in half before the night was over by a mind reading psychic guy (who is insanely hot, by the way), if he didn't manage to kill my _other_ best friend first.

There was a knock on my door and I lifted my head to see my baby brother peeking into my room.

"Hey, Tomkin. What's up?" I asked, smiling at him.

"Hi. Mom said you went out." He said, looking at me with an inquiring look.

The 8 year-old stepped into my room and closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed to sit by my side.

"Yeah, I went to a party." I explained.

He was silent for a minute, examining my face.

"How come you look sad?" He asked, frowning in confusion.

I was taken aback for a moment and stared at the kid in surprise.

"I'm not sad, just tired." I confessed, throwing him a smile. "Anyway, _you're_ the little brother, _I_ am the one who's supposed to worry." I added, ruffling his hair.

He didn't seem convinced, but appeared to have let it go for the time being.

"Hey, what do you say we change into our pj's and watch a movie, huh?" I suggested.

"Okay." He agreed, perking up and looking clearly more excited as he hurried out of the room. I chuckled a bit and changed into my pajamas before picking up my laptop to choose a movie (mom never said anything about laptops when she said I wasn't allowed to watch TV... I know, I'm as good as Crowley at finding loopholes).

Once Tommy came back, we settled on 'Harry Potter and philosopher's stone' and we were able to watch about thirty minutes into the movie before falling asleep on the bed.

I woke up with a start when my phone started ringing. I picked it up and saw it was Stiles.

"What do you want?" I sluggishly said, as I closed the still opened laptop and got up to place it on the desk.

"Why weren't you answering my texts? Are you ok?" Stiles asked, talking fast.

"I'm fine, I was just sleeping. What happened with Scott, anyway? Is he ok? Did he turn?" I inquired, feeling more awake now, as I remembered the events that had happened just hours before.

"Yeah. Look you've got to stay away from Derek! He's not who you think he is." He added.

"I know, he's a mind reader and possibly the killer." I replied.

"What?" Stiles sputtered. "No! He's the one who bit Scott, and yes he's the killer but he's a werewolf, not a mind reader. Why on earth would you think that?"

"Great. So I recited the alphabet backwards in my head for nothing." I grumbled. "Well, at least I was right about something."

"Sure." Stiles said. "Oh, Scott was chased by hunters."

"Hunters?" I inquired, confused.

"Werewolf hunters." He clarified.

"Oh… Well, shit just hit the fan, huh?" I commented.

 **A/N: Sooo… that was the first chapter. Penny for your thoughts? JK, but seriously, tell me what you think, and don't hesitate to say if I made a mistake or something doesn't fit right with the story. I will not be able to fix it if you don't ;-)**

 **By the way, I used feet as a measuring unit in the story, even though I don't use it in my daily life, so I'm not 100 % certain that the measurements I chose are correct.**


	2. Second Chance at First Line

**Cry me a river – Chapter 2: Second chance at first line**

 **A/N: Hi! Me again :-) update!**

 **Disclaimer: don't own teen wolf or anything you recognize.**

* * *

I was sitting in the lacrosse field bleachers, doing my homework while waiting for the lacrosse practice to start. There weren't a lot of people on the bleachers right now, which was a bonus, since I could have my things scattered across the bench. Today, I had chosen to wear a printed tank top, skinny jeans and a pair of classic black low-cut converse All stars. In sum, my usual getup.

I started tying my hair in a high ponytail when my two best friends appeared on the field.

They were walking towards the other players on the team as I noticed that Scott looked a bit edgy. I wonder what could have caused it. Oh, well I just hope it doesn't trigger any werewolf related problems.

Coach Finstock instructed Jackson to grab a long stick as the players formed a line to take turns in trying to score.

The practice started and about four guys tried to score. However, they had no luck, as they were slammed into by Jackson. Then, it was Scott's turn and I raised my head from my math homework to watch him practice.

He made his way to the goal but was slammed into by Jackson and I cringed as he fell to the ground. He got up and coach started to reprimand him for running too slow (something about dead grandmas?) while I just prayed that he didn't turn into a werewolf. That would be a bit hard to explain... But then again, I would probably not have to explain anything since there would be no one to explain it to (Scott would probably just kill us all if he lost control).

Thankfully, it didn't seem like that would happen as coach announced: 'McCall's gonna do it again' twice and Scott ran back to the line.

This time though, it was Scott who rammed into Jackson, who fell to the ground clutching his shoulder. I got up from the bench as Scott fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands. I figured Scott was having some wolf related problems, and started to stuff everything inside my bag as fast as I could so I could join them in the field.

Everybody ran to Jackson, forming a circle around him while Stiles went to Scott's side and dragged him away from the team.

I was leaving the bleachers to follow them when I caught sight of someone across the field. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around, seeing Derek Hale in his usual black attire, except for a white shirt.

He was staring at me and I raised my eyebrows at him. He responded by slowly shaking his head 'no' and I realized he was telling me to not go after them. I decided to turn my back on him and race after Scott and Stiles. After all, they were my best friends, whom I have known for twelve years. I met Derek a week ago, so I was not about to listen to him instead of my best friends… no matter how hot he was.

I raced into the school and stopped, realizing I had no idea where they went. I listened for them and heard some commotion in the boy's locker room. I ran to the door, which was wide open, and saw Scott crouching on top of a locker, growling at whom I assumed to be Stiles.

Scott continued to 'pursue his prey' in an animalistic manner, growling and all, as I stood by the door, uncertain of what to do (it's not like I had a lot of experience with werewolves. I mean, yeah, I might be a supernatural fanatic and all, but werewolves didn't make many appearances in the show and besides, that's fiction whereas this, is real life).

"Stiles!" I called out to him, trying to get his attention as he appeared in my line of sight, nearing the door.

He whirled around, looking extremely frantic, and shooed me from the room as he grabbed the fire extinguisher and aimed it at Scott. He then proceeded to spray the hell out of Scott, who fell on a bench, before retreating to hall, grabbing me in the process.

"Is he human again?" Stiles whispered at me, currently pressed against the wall of the hallway clutching the fire extinguisher in his hands.

I peeked into the room and saw a sweaty and confused looking Scott.

"Lexie?" He asked, squinting his eyes as I entered the room.

"Clear!" I said to Stiles, who peeked inside the locker room.

"What happened?" He asked, looking at both of us.

Stiles dropped the fire extinguisher and took off his gloves as he joined us in the room.

"You tried to kill me." Stiles replied. "It's like I told you before, it's the anger, it's your pulse rising, it's a trigger."

"But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game if you hadn't noticed." Scott said.

"Well, it's going to be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone in the field." I told Scott.

"You can't play Saturday. You will have to get out of the game." Stiles added.

"But I'm first line." Scott whined.

"Not anymore." Stiles replied as I gave Scott a sympathetic look.

"First, I found out that Allison's father is a hunter who's probably going to kill me and now you're telling me I can't play lacrosse?" Scott complained.

"Wait, wait! Rewind, please. Allison's father is a what, now?" I asked them, looking at both of them with a shocked expression.

"Scott saw Allison's father when he came to pick her up before the practice and recognized him from the other night." Stiles clarified.

"Yeah. The other night, when he _shot_ me with a _crossbow._ " Scott grumbled.

"Wow. That…" I trailed off, not really knowing what to say. "…sucks. Sorry, Scotty."

* * *

I was in my room (in my pj's, which were sweatpants and a basic shirt), sitting at my desk and Tommy was sprawled across my bed, doing his science homework and occasionally asking me questions about it. Stiles had driven me home after school, like usual, and said that he was going to try to figure out how bad Jackson was. So now, I was online, on my computer, waiting for Scott and Stiles to log in so we could video chat.

My computer beeped and I realized that Stiles was finally online so I put on my headphones (to prevent Tommy from hearing our werewolf talk. I don't want my baby brother involved in this, obviously) and entered the video chat.

Stiles appeared on his half of the screen, firing a toy gun and I rolled my eyes at his childishness, although not being able to fight the smirk that appeared on my face. But seriously though, not even my eight year old brother did that anymore.

"What did you find out?" Scott asked Stiles.

"Well, it's bad. Jackson's got a separated shoulder." Stiles replied.

"That sounds painful." I commented, cringing.

"Because of me?" Scott inquired.

"Because he's a tool." Stiles answered.

"Agreed." I said.

"But is he going to play?" Scott questioned.

"Oh, they don't know yet. Now they are just counting on you for Saturday." Stiles replied as Scott sighed.

Scott dropped his head and suddenly a shadow moved in the background. I looked at Stiles' half of the screen and realized that he was also staring at it.

"What?" Scott asked us, looking confused.

Stiles started writing, presumably to tell him about the shadow, which made the video chat unbearably slow. It was a _very_ annoying glitch that we couldn't get around.

A message appeared on the screen, saying: _'It looks like'_ but almost immediately, the screen froze as it loaded the next text that Stiles had sent.

Finally, about ten seconds later, the other message appeared: _'Someone's behind you Scott'_

Scott stiffened and suddenly the person moved (clearly male), grabbing Scott as I realized he was dressed in black clothes. Which could only mean… Derek.

Derek pushed Scott against the wall of his room and I felt utterly useless as I could do nothing but watch them. After a few minutes (which felt like hours), Derek disappeared just as quickly as he'd appeared, exiting through… the window? Did he really jump out of the window?

Scott then got back to his chair, panting a bit as he sat down.

"What happened?" I asked Scott. "What did he want?"

"He just threatened to kill me if I play the game on Saturday." Scott replied, sounding bitter.

"Well, I'm sorry to say this, Scott, but he's got a point…" I trailed off. Scott and Stiles looked at me like I was insane and I quickly added: "About not playing the game! Not about killing you! You know that it could end very badly, and that's: 'you turning behemoth and going on a rampage' badly."

"Lexie? Who's going to kill who? And what's a behemoth?" My little brother asked, startling me as I realized that I wasn't alone in my room.

I whirled around, taking off my headphones, and saw that he was looking at me with a confused face.

"Oh, no one's going to kill anyone. It was just a figure of speech. And a behemoth is… a hippo!" I covered, dismissing him and hoping it had sounded truthful. It's not like he would know anyway, the kid was eight years old. There was no way he'd know tha-

"It sounded like you were serious..." He stated, clearly not convinced.

I had to give the kid more credit than that, damn.

"Well, I wasn't. Are you finished with your homework?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"No, I'm just missing a few questions." He replied, taking the bait (although I didn't know if he did that willingly or unknowingly) and turning his attention back to his homework.

* * *

The next day, I was sitting through math class in my usual attire (skinny jeans, tank top and all stars), watching Lydia and Scott solve an equation with the quadratic equation formula on the board. They were talking to each other but I couldn't figure out what they were saying since I was sitting too far away from the board.

So I just watched as Lydia solved her equation whilst talking, whereas Scott just stopped altogether and didn't write anything else but the formula.

Lydia finished the equation on the board (correctly, much to my dismay. How did she even manage math with how dumb she was? Seriously, it was like she activated mode Einstein every time she walked through the door!) and strutted back to her seat.

"Mister McCall, you are not even close to solving your problem." The teacher stated.

"Tell me about it." He replied with a sigh.

C'mon Scotty, equations are easy! The solution's -1+(3/√2), -1-(3/√2). Even Lydia could do it!

Okay, so I might have a little flair for math, and might be a bit territorial about it. So, Lydia's surprising ease with math was something to add to the list of reasons why I disliked her (hate is such a strong word).

Eventually Scott solved it, with some help from the teacher and a little mistake (he forgot the minus sign on the four so he had to redo it from that point). He then got back to his seat and the class proceeded for fifteen more minutes until the bell rang.

Scott and I left the classroom, headed for our lockers where Stiles suddenly appeared, grabbing and dragging us across the hall.

"What?" Scott and I asked at the same time.

"Tell me what they're saying." Stiles replied, pointing upstairs to where his father stood in his sheriff uniform with a deputy and one of the school's employees.

I was confused for a second and was about to express said confusion when I realized he was addressing Scott, who grew silent, seemingly listening to them talk.

"Curfew because of the body." Scott explained.

"Unbelievable!" Stiles exclaimed "My dad is out looking for a rabid animal while the jerk-off who actually killed the girl is just hanging out, doing whatever he wants."

"Wait, I just realized I never asked. How are you so sure that Derek is the killer?" I asked them with a confused look.

"I saw him as a werewolf!" Scott explained, frowning.

"Well, that doesn't mean he's the killer. Right?" I questioned, a little uncertain.

"Let me make this simple for you, Lex. Killer of girl: werewolf, werewolves: Scott and Derek, Scott: not killer, therefore, Derek: killer." Stiles replied as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Current number of werewolves in Beacon Hills: unknown, therefore, killer: unknown." I countered, raising my eyebrows at Stiles.

"Please, if there were other werewolves in Beacon Hills we would know by now." Stiles retorted.

"Or not." I responded.

"Moving on, you can't exactly tell your dad the truth about Derek, Stiles." Scott said, changing subjects.

"I can do something." Stiles replied.

"Like what?" Scott and I asked at the same time.

"Like find the other half of the body." Stiles stated and walked away.

"Are you kidding?" Scott questioned him but got no response.

Scott turned his head and spotted Allison down the hall. It looked like Lydia was introducing her to some guy from the lacrosse team.

"I'm gonna go… to my French class. _Allons-y!_ " I added, pointing to the other side of the hall as I left Scott alone so he could go talk to Allison (it's not like I wanted to hear their lovey dovey conversation. I had other things to do, you know? Like, beating the bell to my French class by five minutes. Okay, let's face it: I'm _forever alone._ Cue ugly crying).

* * *

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day and I sighed in relief. Now I could go home and relax, maybe watch some supernatural… okay, definitely watch some supernatural since I couldn't go to my stream due to me _still_ being grounded (cue internal meltdown). No fair! Scott and Stiles got away scot-free!

I made my way outside, where I spotted Stiles' jeep and walked over to it. As I got inside, I noticed that Stiles looked a bit more frantic than usual, so I inquisitively raised my eyebrows at him.

"We're going to Scott's." He jabbered. "He found something!"

"What?" I inquired.

"Don't know. Yet." He replied, focusing on the road as he drove unusually fast.

I looked at the speedometer and rolled my eyes as I noticed that he was breaking the speed limit, by a lot.

"You might want to slow down if you want to get there without being interrupted by the police. Because _that_ , would most likely result in _not_ getting there." I warned him and he responded with a huff. However, he did slow down a bit, although not enough to be in the speed limit.

"So are you still dead set on finding the other half of the body?" I asked him.

"Duh." He simply replied.

About five minutes later, we arrived at Scott's house and Stiles practically jumped out of the car and hurried to the door. I raced after him as he opened the door and climbed the stairs two steps at a time.

He burst into Scott's room and I followed him as Scott turned his head away from his lacrosse stick to look at us.

"What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? And yes, I've had a lot of Adderall, so…" Stiles inquired.

"I found something at Derek Hale's" Scott replied.

"Are you kidding? What?" Stiles questioned.

"There's something buried there, I could smell blood." Scott answered.

"That's awesome!" Stiles exclaimed, making me raise my eyebrows at him. "I mean that's terrible." He corrected. "Who's blood?"

"I don't know. But when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder. Then you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing. Because there is no way I'm not playing that game." Scott replied as they exited the room and I trailed after them.

"So, where are we going?" I asked as we walked down the stairs.

"Hospital. I need to smell the other half of the body to see if it's the same scent I picked up at Derek's." Scott clarified.

"Eww. You're going to sniff a dead body." I stated, picturing it in my head and looking at Scott who seemed to be reconsidering it.

"It's for a good cause, Scott." Stiles said, patting him in the shoulder as we walked to the jeep. "You can do it, buddy."

"What if it's not the same scent?" I inquired.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Stiles replied as we got in the jeep.

Stiles then drove to the Beacon Hills hospital and parked his car before we headed inside the building, trying to avoid anyone that'd recognize us (since Scott's mom was a nurse here, my dad was a surgeon and Stiles was known for his frequent visits back when his mother was committed to the hospital).

"Hey." Stiles said, pointing to a door that lead to the morgue.

"Okay. Lexie, you're on the lookout" Scott announced, grabbing my arm and taking me with him.

"What about me?" Stiles asked us, frowning.

"Cover for us, In case anyone asks." Scott replied, opening the door.

"Ha! I'm more _reliable_." I teased him, putting on a bitch face. He responded by sticking his tongue out and I winked at him before Scott dragged me through the door.

We walked down the hall, avoiding eye contact with the nurse that passed by us, until we reached a door that had 'Morgue' written on it.

I nudged Scott and he nodded in agreement before checking to see if there was anyone in the hall.

"Knock if anyone comes." Scott whispered at me as he entered the morgue and closed the door behind him.

I slumped against the door and tried to keep an ear out for any noises that didn't come from inside the morgue.

There was no movement or commotion for about twenty seconds, until I heard the unmistakable sound of a gurney being pushed this way. I realized that it was probably a dead body being dropped off at the morgue and felt my stomach drop. This is bad, very bad. We're _screwed._

I knocked on the door three times and hurriedly got away from it, trying my best to look lost. God, please let me have insanely good acting skills right now... pretty please?

Suddenly a nurse appeared in the corridor, pushing a gurney that had a blue sheet covering what looked like a body. He was looking down, reading a chart, but looked up when he noticed my presence.

"What are you doing here?" He asked with a not-so-friendly face. He probably thought I was some thrill-seeking teenager that wanted to see a dead body, which was _so_ not true. Well, kind of…

"I'm sorry, I'm totally lost." I replied, feigning innocence and praying that he took the bait. Unfortunately though, and quite obviously, he didn't.

"Right." He scoffed. "Let me guess, looking for the bathroom?"

"No! I'll have you know I was…" Oh, shoot. I had no idea what to say and the stupid nurse raised his eyebrows at me, obviously waiting for a response. "looking for my father." I said the first thing that came to mind, although he still didn't seem to believe me. "He works here." I added.

"Get out of here." The nurse ordered as he rolled his eyes and moved to open the door.

"No!" I yelled at him to stop, which I shouldn't have done since now I had to come up with a reason why I'd done that and, once again, I had absolutely no ideas. _Help?_

"What?" He asked, growing irritated and annoyed by the second.

"I…" I realized that Scott hadn't come out when I knocked which meant he had hid, since he could hear us (werewolf hearing, _duh_! *mental facepalm* I'm really stupid sometimes). "Nothing, I'll find him on my own." I said, grabbing my phone (a Nokia x2-01) and presenting it to the nurse.

The nurse huffed in annoyance and pushed the gurney inside the room as I pretended to dial a number. I put the phone to my ear and watched as the nurse exited the morgue. He looked at me and gave a fake smile before turning around, locking the door and walking away. Stupid nurse.

I put my phone away and moved over to the door, knocking on it.

"Scott, are you in there?" I whisper yelled as I heard noise from inside the room.

"Yeah, how the hell am I going to get out of here?" Scott replied after a few seconds.

"Hold on. I'm going to try something" I said, reaching for my wallet and taking out a random card. Thank goodness for Stiles' learning random knowledge phase. When we were kids, Stiles used to get fascinated with the most random things, and one of those things happened to be lock picking, which actually proved to come in handy. He used to lecture us (and still does) on the things that he discovered while on a learning spree. I guess I'm thankful for that now.

I stuck the credit card in the gap between the door and the doorjamb and started sliding it up and down.

"Lexie, what are you doing?" Scott asked from the morgue.

"Just wait! I'm trying to pick the lock with a credit card, just like Stiles taught us to, remember?" I answered, after a few seconds of trying.

"I don't think it's going to work…" Scott trailed off after what seemed like two minutes of pushing the damn credit card up and down in the gap.

I groaned in annoyance and pushed the card in the gap one more time. A click was heard and I tentatively pushed the door, sighing in relief when it opened, revealing an also relieved looking Scott.

He exited the room and we proceeded to walk hurriedly down the corridor, anxious to get out of here before we were caught again.

"So, was it the same scent?" I asked, once we were clear.

"Yes." He replied as we entered the waiting room.

We looked around for Stiles and found him sitting in a chair. I snorted as I realized he was holding a pamphlet about menstrual cycles. Idjit. However, he was clearly not paying any attention to it, I quickly discovered as I followed his gaze to where Lydia stood, making out with Jackson. Gross, get a room!

Scott ripped the pamphlet out of Stiles hands, startling him.

"God!" Stiles exclaimed.

"The scent was the same." Scott explained.

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked, getting up.

"Yes." Scott replied.

"So, he did bury the other half of the body on his property." Stiles stated.

"Yes, apparently so." I agreed.

"Which means we have proof he killed the girl." Scott added.

"I say we use it" Stiles said as he moved to the exit.

"Or that he just buried her body…" I trailed off but was ignored by them.

"How?" Scott asked, as we followed Stiles.

"Tell me something first. Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play in the game and he said you couldn't?" Stiles inquired, turning around to look Scott in the eyes.

"There were bite marks in the legs, Stiles. Bite marks." Scott replied, making me cringe. Could Derek really have done it? True he was the silent, dark and mysterious kind, not to mention brooding. Summarizing, the kind that most likely hid dark things from his past. But truly, he didn't strike me as a psychotic killer that liked to chop off his victims in half.

"Okay. Then we're going to need a shovel." Stiles added as we left the hospital. "Or rather, three."

* * *

We arrived at the old burned down Hale house, but remained in the shadows, sitting in silence inside the jeep (so Derek wouldn't hear us with his super werewolf hearing), as we waited for hot and sexy to leave in his black Camaro.

After a few minutes, he exited the house and walked over to his sexy car, getting in and driving away. Then, Stiles moved the jeep over to the house and we got out. Scott and Stiles grabbed a shovel each, whereas I just exited the vehicle, glad that they'd only found two shovels and that they'd both lost the rock-paper-scissor game to me (cue evil laugh).

"Wait, something's different." Scott said as we walked over to where Derek supposedly buried the other half of the girl's body.

"Different, how?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know…" Scott trailed off. "Let's just get this over with." He added as they both started digging.

"Lexie, you're supposed to be on the look-out!" Stiles whined as I sat on the ground next to them with a smirk, holding the flashlight and aiming it at the hole.

"And I am! I'm keeping an ear out for black Camaros while I sit!" I replied. "Wow, this is so cool! It's like I jumped into an episode of supernatural!"

I proceeded to watch them dig for the next ten minutes. Taking pleasure in hearing their whines of how tiring it was while I just sat there, smiling at them.

"This is taking way too long." Scott stated.

"Yup, I think so too." I agreed.

"Just keep going." Stiles replied.

"What if he comes back?" Scott inquired.

"Then we get the hell out of here" Stiles said.

"What if he catches us?" Scott questioned.

"I have a plan for that." Stiles added.

"Which is?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him in an inquisitively manner.

"You run one way, I run the other. Whoever he catches first, too bad." Stiles replied.

"I hate that plan!" Scott said.

"I second that!" I agreed, raising my hand.

"Alright, stop! Stop! Stop!" Stiles quickly added, hitting something hard with his shovel.

I got up to peek into the hole as Stiles and Scott both discarded their shovels to the side and crouched down to investigate the hard surface. They started to push the dirt aside with their hands, and discovered a large bag tied with a rope in a lot of knots.

"Hurry!" Scott said, urging Stiles on.

"Yeah, I'm trying! Did he have to tie the thing in like, nine hundred knots?" Stiles whined.

"Move aside, let me do it." I said, jumping inside the hole and crouching down next to them. Boys and knots… not a good combination.

We finally untied all the knots (thanks to moi) and opened the bag, jumping back in surprise when a wolf's head was staring back at us. They screamed and I shrieked as we climbed out of the hole in a frenzy.

"Oh my god! I think I just had a minor heart attack!" I said, panting.

"What the hell is that!" Stiles cried out.

"It's a wolf!" Scott replied.

"Thank you, captain obvious!" I said rolling my eyes, which were still wide from the scare.

"Yeah!" Stiles agreed. "I thought you said you could smell blood! As in, human blood."

"I told you something was different." Scott answered.

"This doesn't make sense." Stiles stated, staring at the wolf.

"We gotta get out of here." Scott added.

"Yeah." We agreed.

"Okay, help me cover this up." Stiles asked us but stopped moving altogether, as he appeared to have caught sight of something directly behind me. Please let it not be Derek, _please!_ One heart attack is enough for one day, thank you very much.

"What's wrong?" Scott questioned.

"Do you see that flower?" Stiles inquired, pointing at something ahead of us.

I turned around, relieved that it was just a flower and pointed the flashlight at it, examining it and discovering that it was wolfsbane.

"What about it?" Scott asked, sounding confused.

"It's wolfsbane!" I exclaimed, looking back at them.

"What's that?" Scott inquired as both me and Stiles looked at him with incredulous looks.

"Haven't you ever seen ' _The wolfman_ '?" Stiles questioned.

"No." Scott replied, shaking his head.

"Lon Chaney Jr.? Claude Rains? The original classic werewolf movie?" Stiles asked, exasperated.

"Vampire Diaries?" I asked, earning a dumbfounded look from Stiles. "What? It's a tv show… "

"No, I haven't! Now, what?" Scott asked us, growing more annoyed.

"You're so unprepared for this." Stiles stated as he got up and moved over to the flower, picking it up. The root came attached to it and he started pulling it out, moving in a circle around us.

"Hey." Scott said, getting up and pointing at the hole.

I looked at him, getting up and also peeked inside the hole. What I saw made my blood run cold. Inside the hole, there was no longer a head of a black wolf, but the upper body of a girl, who had her eyes open, almost like she was staring at us. That was _so_ creepy. I'm going to have nightmares for the rest of my life!

Stiles stopped in his tracks and walked over to us, looking inside the hole.

"Hol-" Stiles sputtered, surprised at seeing the dead body.

* * *

I was leaning against Stiles' jeep with Scott, since Stiles was talking to a deputy about the body. We called the police when we found it and spent the rest of the night here, talking with them about it.

Scott straightened and I looked towards what had captured his attention, seeing Derek being brought out of the house in handcuffs. He looked at us and I looked down at the ground, not really wanting to exchange glances with the supposed psycho killer.

The police officers got Derek inside the car and I looked up at them, studying the car.

"Hey." Scott whispered, nudging me. I looked to where he was staring and saw Stiles walking towards the police cruiser where Derek was being held. He looked at us as he stopped by the car.

"No." Scott whispered, shaking his head.

However, Stiles paid him no attention and hurriedly entered the car. Scott turned around, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What the hell is he doing?" I whispered at him.

"I don't know, but he's going to get us in trouble." Scott replied. "God."

We just stood there for a while, me occasionally glancing at the cop car and biting my nails from the nerves.

"Damn. Sheriff at ten o'clock." I told Scott, sighting as I saw the sheriff approaching the cruiser where Stiles was talking to Derek at the moment.

"What?" Scott inquired, looking confused.

"The sheriff's headed for the car!" I huffed in annoyance.

Scott turned around and we both saw Stiles being dragged out of the cruiser by his father who grabbed him by his right arm. Then we watched Stiles talk to his dad, sporadically making gestures with his hands. After they were done, he walked towards us and we entered his jeep, me sitting in the backseat (as always. Seriously, don't I deserve to be in the front sometimes?).

Stiles started the engine and drove away from the crime scene, while I stared out the window, at the forest.

"See if you can find anything about the use of wolfsbane for burials on your phone." Stiles asked Scott, since I didn't have free internet on my phone (which sucks by the way. But we can't have everything we want, right?).

"Fine." Scott replied, taking out his phone as I leaned over to the front, to see what appeared on the phone's screen.

Scott tried typing in multiple searches and I sometimes told him to search for a specific word or expression. However, none of them panned out and eventually he gave up, huffing in annoyance.

"I can't find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial." Scott announced, looking up at Stiles.

"Just keep looking." Stiles replied, focusing back on the road. "Maybe it's like a ritual or something. Maybe they bury you as a wolf. Or maybe it's like a special skill, you know? Like, something you have to learn."

"Yeah. I'll put it on my to-do list, underneath 'figuring out how the hell am I going to play this game tonight'." Scott added.

"Maybe it's different for girl werewolves." Stiles wondered.

"Okay! Stop it." Scott said, looking seriously annoyed.

"Stop what?" Stiles asked as we both looked at Scott with confused looks.

"Stop saying 'werewolves'! Stop enjoying this so much!" Scott cried out.

"Scott?" I said, concernedly looking at him at the same time Stiles asked: "Are you okay?"

"No!" Scott yelled out, startling me. "No, I'm not! I'm so far from being okay!"

"You know, you're going to have to accept this Scott. Sooner or later." Stiles added.

"I can't" Scott replied.

"Well, you're gonna have to!" Stiles exclaimed.

"No! I can't breathe" Scott clarified as he smacked the hood of the jeep with his open hand.

Stiles sputtered whilst looking at Scott, alarmed. He was having trouble breathing and I wondered about what could be causing this.

"Pull over!" Scott ordered, looking distressed.

"Why? What's happening? Stiles inquired.

"Just pull over Stiles." I told him, now growing scared. "Something's wrong."

Scott then proceeded to grab Stiles' backpack and discovered the wolfsbane we had found at Derek's house. Apparently Stiles had kept it. Idjit! Didn't he know that the flower was bad for werewolves? I mean, hello? The name says it all: wolf's bane, literally meaning cause of harm for wolves!

"You kept it?" Scott yelled at Stiles as I gave him a dumbfounded look.

"What was I supposed to do with it?" Stiles replied.

"Stop the car!" Scott cried out, looking at Stiles. From where I was sitting it looked like his eyes had flashed to yellow when he yelled, and apparently Stiles noticed it too (going from the expression on his face) since he stopped the jeep and grabbed the backpack.

He ran out of the car and flung the backpack containing the wolfsbane towards the woods, however, it was too late, since Scott had darted out of the jeep and ran away, disappearing among the trees. I tried calling out to him, but he didn't even turn around.

"Okay." Stiles said, panting and turning around. "We're good, if-" He stopped talking when he realized Scott was gone.

"Scott?" He called out to him.

"He's gone, Stiles." I said, shaking my head.

He hurried back to the jeep, starting the engine again as I climbed to the front seat.

"Grab your phone." Stiles ordered me. I took out my phone and threw him an inquisitive look. "Call 911."

"What?" I inquired, confused.

"Just give me that." He said as he ripped my phone out of my hands and dialed 911 himself.

"911, what's your emergency?" I heard a feminine voice ask from my phone that Stiles had apparently put on speaker.

"Hi. Sorry, have yo-" Stiles started saying but was interrupted by the voice on the phone.

"Stiles?" The voice inquired as I scoffed.

"Yeah, listen." He said, still holding the phone in his hand.

"Stiles, you know you can't call the dispatch line when I'm on duty." The woman said in a scolding manner. So he actually made a habit of this?

"I just need to know if you've gotten any odd calls." He added as I rolled my eyes and gave him my best Sammy bitch face. Did he seriously just call 911 about Scott? What's he going to say, I need help, I lost my werewolf?

"Odd, how?" The woman questioned, sounding confused.

"Huuh, like an odd person or… a dog like individual roaming the streets?" He asked as I scoffed.

"I'm hanging up on you now." The woman announced.

"No!" Stiles cried out. "Wait, wait, wait!"

"Bye." She simply said before hanging up on him.

He groaned in annoyance and threw my cellphone at my lap.

"Hey!" I whined. "Watch the phone. Besides, what did you expect?"

After that, he dropped me off at home and said he'd be back to pick me up later (for the lacrosse game).

As I entered my house, I saw my mom appear from the living room.

"Oh, honey. What were you three up to? How in god's name did you stumble across a body?" She asked me as she led me to the living room.

"Oh, huh…" I trailed off since I hadn't really come up with an excuse. I decided to go with the truth (well, some of it). "Well, we suspected it was Derek Hale and Scott said he saw something buried at his house. So…"

"Why didn't you call the police instead of going investigating on your own? You know, things could have ended up badly!" She scolded me.

"We didn't have any proof! We didn't want to waste their time…" I explained.

"Well, you are never, ever, going to do that again. You hear me? And I've told your father about this." She informed me. "We are rethinking getting you a car for your birthday."´

"But…" I whined. "Then I'll never be able to get anywhere on my own."

"That's the point." I heard my father say as he entered the room. "We aren't going to give you a car if you're just going to use it to put yourself in more trouble."

"Fine." I sighed, resigned. Maybe they'd change their minds before my birthday? Wishful thinking couldn't hurt… "I can still go to the boy's lacrosse game, right?"

My parents seemed reluctant, so I quickly added: "It's Scott's first game! C'mon, I've got to be there. Pretty please? Tommy was really looking forward to go too."

"Fine." My dad relented. "But I'm driving you."

"You are?" I asked, surprised.

"I've got the day off." He explained as he moved over to the couch.

"Okay. I'm going upstairs." I announced, making my way to the stairs while texting Stiles to let him know I wouldn't be needing a ride.

I stopped by my bedroom door and changed courses, opening my baby brother's bedroom door instead. He was sitting at his desk, working on something, and whirled around when he heard me enter.

"Hey, Tomkin!" I said cheerfully. "Do you want to go to a lacrosse game?"

"Okay." He replied shrugging his shoulders.

"Awesome!" I exclaimed. "Because I already told mom and dad you were going." I added, winking at him.

* * *

We arrived at the school a few minutes before the game started and headed for the bleachers. I had put on some skinny jeans, a sweat shirt (it was chilly outside) and ballerina flats, since I wasn't really feeling the all stars today. Strange, that almost never happened.

I saw Scott and Stiles entering the field and was surprised when Lydia came up to Scott and grabbed him by his shirt, telling him something before letting go of the jersey and walking away. I saw her strut back to her seat and noticed she was sitting next to Allison and a man I assumed to be her father (the so called werewolf hunter). I was scrutinizing him when suddenly, a referee blew a whistle, making all the players assume their position on the field.

I saw Melissa McCall and called out to her, gesturing her to come sit next to us. She made her way to us and sheriff Stilinski joined her, after he finished talking to his son.

Our parents then proceeded to talk about… parent stuff (I don't know) while I answered Tommy's questions about lacrosse (Knowledge I'd acquired from watching almost all the practices and hearing my friends talk non-stop about the sport. One was bound to know a thing or two after two years of this).

The ball was laid down on the field and two players (one from either team) bent down in front of each other, ready to pick it up.

The referee blew the whistle and the game started, with the ball on our team. Scott started to run, waving his arms around to show that he was free to catch the ball. However, no one passed him the ball, much to my dismay. Scott threw his hands up in exasperation and ran over to where the ball was.

Then, it fell to the ground and Scott started running towards it, intending on picking it up. I watched dumbfounded as Jackson, who was on the same team as Scott, may I add , rammed into him, picking up the ball himself. What a jerk! He ran to the goal and shot the ball, scoring.

The audience stood up and cheered while I just remained in my spot, sitting and pouting.

"The Beacon Hills team scored, isn't that a good thing?" My little brother asked, looking at my pissed off face with a confused look.

"Yeah, but Jackson shouldn't have done that. He rammed into someone that was on the same team as him just to get the ball. That's called selfishness, not to mention extreme idiocy." I explained as coach Finstock urged Jackson on and I rolled my eyes. That coach seriously needed to promote some team work.

I noticed something had caught Scott's attention and turned around, seeing Lydia and Allison holding a poster that said 'We luv u Jackson'. I rolled my eyes and turned back to field, where the players rearranged themselves.

The game went on and Beacon Hills scored two more times, whereas the other team scored four. Scott hadn't yet caught a single ball through the duration of the game and I suspected that the players weren't passing him the ball on purpose.

The other team scored again and the players moved over to their respective spots. Scott bent down in his spot, staring at the ground. The referee stopped by his side and Scott nodded his head in response to something he'd been asked, his breath visible in the cold. The guy that was behind him started backing away from him and I realized that he was turning into a werewolf. Bad, _very_ bad.

Scott looked at Allison again, who was holding another poster, this one saying: 'Jackson is #1!'. I noticed she didn't seem very happy about holding it either.

The referee blew the whistle and two players fought for the ball, the one from the other team throwing it at his teammates. However, before they could receive the ball, Scott raced towards them and jumped, stepping on the shoulder of one of them and successfully catching the ball. I jumped up from my sit as Scott continued running towards the goal, evading all the players that tried to take the ball away from him and threw the ball, scoring.

The audience went wild, including me this time. I cheered and my little brother followed my lead, climbing the bench so he could stand taller among the crowd.

"Now _that's_ how you do it!" I exclaimed raising my hand up and high fiving my baby brother as coach started ordering the team to pass to McCall.

Everybody got to their positions and the referee blew the whistle once again. The other team got control of the ball and the player who caught the ball turned around to run towards our goal. However, he stopped dead in his tracks, fearfully looking at Scott who was in front of him. He then purposely passed the ball to Scott, much to everyone's surprise, who started running towards the other team's goal.

Scott proceeded to throw the ball and it tore a hole through the goalie's net, ending up in the goal. People were even more stunned but cheered nonetheless.

The screen changed the home score to 5 and coach Finstock argued with the other coach about it. The score stayed the same, though, and the players retreated back to their positions, with thirty nine seconds to play before the end of the game.

Jackson bent down in front of one of the players from the other team and the referee blew the whistle as they tried to pick up the ball. Somehow, it ended up in Scott's net and he started running before switching to a funny walk on the field. I started biting my nails as I realized that he was in complete werewolf mode now. He stopped a few feet away from the goal as two players started running towards him.

At five seconds before the end of game, Scott threw the ball and scored.

The referee blew the whistle, signalizing the end of the game and the crowd cheered, going wild as they reveled in the fact that Beacon Hill's lacrosse team won the game.

Then, all the people started moving towards the field and I saw Scott running away. I stayed in my spot though since my dad was talking to Melissa on the bench as the sheriff answered a call.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Stiles, who also hadn't moved from his spot on the bench, asked. The sheriff gestured him to wait and hung up after a few seconds.

Stiles got up and walked towards where we were standing.

"The medical examiner looked at the other half of the body you found. He determined that an animal killed the girl and therefore Derek Hale had to be released. And they've got an I.D. on the dead girl, her name was Laura Hale, Derek's sister. " The sheriff explained.

"Are you kidding?" Stiles asked and his dad glared at him. "We've got to warn Scott!" He said as he grabbed my arm and dragged me away.

"Dad!" I called out, getting his attention. "We're going to find Scott." I explained before leaving with Stiles, leaving our parents and Tommy.

We raced towards the school and headed for the boy's locker room (second time in the same week I've been in it. It's becoming a habit). We walked in and I ran into Stiles as he stopped in his tracks. I stepped back and looked over at Scott, who was currently making out with Allison.

We waited them out until they broke the kiss and Allison told Scott she had to get back to her dad. She gave him one more peck and started walking away, noticing our presence.

"Hi, Stiles. Lexie." She greeted, throwing us a 100 watt smile.

"Heya…" Stiles trailed of and I waved as she disappeared.

Scott walked over to us, with a grin on his face.

"I kissed her." He said.

"We saw." Stiles commented.

"You sly dog! Pun intended." I joked, amused at his dreamy expression.

"She kissed me." Scott added.

"We saw that too." Stiles replied.

"It's pretty good, huh?" Stiles inquired.

"I-I-I-I don't know how… but I controlled it. I pulled it back. Maybe I can do this, maybe it's not that bad." Scott mused.

"Yeah… We'll talk later then." Stiles said, patting Scott in the shoulder and turning away before being grabbed by him.

"What?" Scott questioned as me and Stiles exchanged looks, not really wanting to ruin this day for him.

"The.. huh ,medical examiner… looked at the other half of the body we found." Stiles replied, sighing.

"And…" Scott trailed off, waiting for us to finish.

"Well to keep it simple: medical examiner determines killer of girl to be animal, not human. Derek's human, not animal. Derek not killer. Derek let out of jail." Stiles replied.

"Are you kidding?" Scott asked, looking at us as I shook my head.

"No. And here's the bigger kick in the ass. My dad I.D.'d the dead girl, both halves. Her name was Laura Hale." Stiles added.

"Hale?" Scott asked, looking taken aback.

"Derek's sister." I clarified.

 **A/N:** **That's a wrap, folks! So… what did you think? Do you like/love/hate my story? What about Lexie? Tell me your opinions and don't hesitate to tell me if something's wrong with the fic, won't be able to fix it if you don't ;-)**

' **til next time! Beijocas xoxo**


	3. Pack Mentality

**Cry me a river - Chapter 3: Pack Mentality**

 **A/N: Howdy! :D Sorry for the delay, I've had less time to write now that classes have started (at least in my country).. Anyway, here's the chapter!**

 **Hope you enjoy :3**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own teen wolf or anything you recognize (except for my OCs)**

 **Onto the story ;-)**

* * *

I woke up with a start when the shrill noise of my alarm clock started ringing painfully in my ears. I let out a groan and rolled around in bed. I really needed to change the alarm's ringtone, but then again, the shrill noise was probably the only tone that successfully woke up (I'm a heavy sleeper).

I sat up and turned it off as I stretched. God, I _hate_ Mondays. Leaving the bed, I sleepily moved over to my wardrobe to pick my outfit for the day. I decided to go with grey skinny jeans, a black leather jacket, a white tank top and converse all-stars before starting to head downstairs for breakfast.

As I was closing the door, I stopped in my tracks and reentered the room, walking towards my window. Which was halfway open. I'm pretty sure I closed it last night. I examined it and slowly closed it again, looking outside as if it could tell me what had opened the window. There was no movement or presence of living thing except for the tree leaves that gently swayed in the morning breeze and the occasional bark of Mr. Reynolds' (our neighbor) dog. Maybe I'm just getting too paranoid...

I exited the room and walked to the kitchen, getting the milk form the fridge since it wasn't on the table yet. I greeted my mom and started munching on my breakfast as my little brother joined us and grabbed his bowl from the counter.

I finished my breakfast and remained in the kitchen for three more minutes before hearing the familiar honk of Stiles jeep and saying goodbye to both my brother and mother. I started making my way outside on autopilot as I reflected on our latest discoveries, involving one certain werewolf and his sister. I wonder if lycanthropy is genetic... Maybe Laura Hale was a werewolf too? Who knows... well, Derek does. Not like I'm asking _him._ I don't make a habit of associating with known murderers.

I reached the jeep and climbed to the front seat, fastening my seat belt before dumping my backpack in the back seat.

"Hey!" I greeted Stiles, throwing him a smile."Any developments?"

"Hey, nope." He said, popping the 'p'. "Though I have come up with a way to approach her about the formal."

"Wait, what?" I questioned him, confused. "You're talking about Lydia, aren't you?" I asked after a few seconds, rolling my eyes and sighing as realization dawned upon me.

"Yup. I deliberately left my pen home so I can ask her for one in Biology, because she sits in front of me, after that small talk ensues and it'll end up with me taking her to the formal." He explained, convinced of what he was saying and clearly proud of himself as I rolled my eyes (yes, again).

"Aren't you forgetting something important, majorly important? Like the fact that Lydia is dating _Jackson,_ the resident asshole slash spoiled brat? Not to mention that she'd ever go for you, no offense." I replied.

"Details, details. It doesn't matter." He said, dismissing me as he cussed at some driver that had done something to piss him off.

" _Sure._ Like you said, everyone should have a dream, even a pathetic, unrealistic one." I refuted, smirking at him.

"Please, I'll make you eat those words when you're standing in our wedding." He countered as I scoffed.

"So, getting back to the topic, any developments in the _werewolf_ area?" I inquired.

"No, not really." He replied, focusing back on the road.

We proceeded to chat and banter for the next seven minutes before arriving at school, five minutes early.

Stiles killed the engine and we both exited the jeep, heading to the main entrance of the school where Scott was waiting for us like he did every morning.

We walked through the groups of teenagers who were mingling and enjoying their last minutes of freedom before the bell rang and robbed them of that joyful feeling of having all the time in world, joining Scott at the door.

"Hey." Scott said as we greeted him back. "You won't believe the dream I had today."

"That good, huh?" I asked, smirking.

"No, the opposite, really. I dreamed I was with Allison and we were making out, but I turned in front of her and I couldn't control it. I attacked her!" He explained, looking slightly horrified.

"So you killed her?" Stiles asked, opening the door.

"I-I don't know." Scott replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."

"Really? I have, usually ends a little differently" Stiles added as I looked up at him in shock and made a face.

" _Eww._ Dude, ever heard of something called 'too much information'. You're a bit of an oversharer, you know that?" I said, looking back up at him.

"Yeah." Scott agreed. "A, I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real and B, never give that much detail about you in bed again."

"Noted." Stiles replied as I nodded my head in agreement.

God, that conversation led me to some really bad mental pictures. Delete, delete. Not, working! I need a mental cleanse, maybe if I pray really hard, Cas will appear and wipe my memory. Do angels even wipe memories? Huh, I can't remember, let's assume so.

"Let me take a guess here." Stiles started saying but was interrupted by Scott before he could finish the phrase.

"No, I-I know. You think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm going to loose control and rip her throat out." Scott said.

"No, of course not... Yeah that's totally it." Stiles replied as I looked up at them in confusion.

"Wait a second there, Bigfoot. Allison? date? How come I was not informed about this?" I asked.

"Humm... It's just, I feel weird talking about girls to you, Lex." Scott justified, rubbing the back of his head.

"What, why?" I inquired.

"Because _you_ 're a girl!" Scott replied, looking at me as if I was mentally retarded for not knowing this.

"So? I'm also one of your best friends. I assumed?" I added, now a bit uncertain, which was reflected on my voice.

"Don't be ridiculous, Lex. Of course you are. There are just things we don't talk about with you. _Guy_ things." Scott clarified, rolling his eyes.

"Like what?" I questioned, now more curious than anything.

"Like..." Scott trailed off, glancing at Stiles who visibly gulped and gave Scott a pointed look. "Stuff." Scott finished as I frowned and gave him my best Sammy-aspiring bitchface.

"Yeah, stuff about girls...like Allison. So, anyways... Scott, it's gonna be fine. Personally, I think you're handing this pretty freakin' amazingly." Stiles said, patting Scott in the back. "You know, it's not like there's a lycanthropy for beginners class you can take."

"Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher." Scott replied as both Stiles and I looked at him with incredulous expressions.

"Who? Derek?" Stiles cried out, smacking Scott in the back of the head.

"You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?" I inquired.

"Yeah, I know. But chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real." Scott explained.

"How real?" Stiles questioned.

"Like it actually happened." Scott replied as we opened the doors to the back of the school.

All three of us stopped dead in our tracks as we took in the scenery in front of us. A school bus' rear was facing us, with the door nearly teared off it's hinges and stained in red, which I assumed to be blood, judging from the abundance of police officers and the presence of a 'crime scene' tape around the bus.

"I think it did." Stiles said, stating what we were all thinking at the moment.

I gulped, looking at Scott who had an expression of pure horror plastered on his face. Suddenly he whirled around and reentered the school, in a hasty pace.

Stiles and I shared a look of concern and ran after Scott, who was minutely scanning the halls, presumably looking for Allison.

"She's probably fine." Stiles reassured Scott.

"Yeah, we don't know what happened, Scott." I agreed.

"She's not answering my texts." Scott added, growing more concerned as he waved his phone around.

"It could just be a coincidence. Alright?" Stiles said. "A seriously amazing coincidence."

"Just help me find her, okay?" Scott asked. "Do you see her?"

"No." Stiles and me said at the same time.

Scott then fell against a locker, breathing rapidly in short gasps and yelled in frustration before punching it. It's door was completely dented in, dangling of its hinges and my jaw dropped as I looked at it in shock. If Scott could do that out of fear and nervousness and he was only a pup (a baby werewolf), then I didn't even want to think about what the other probably far more experienced and (likely) older not to mention stronger werewolf could do when furious. I just hope that I (or anyone else for that matter) won't be around when that happens.

Scott seemed to calm down and I looked at Stiles, uncertain of what to do. Scott, though, started to slowly back away from the locker. He was trying to get as much distance as he could from the thing before anyone noticed it and realized he was the one to blame for the homicide attempt on the poor locker, I figured, and we did the same thing.

As he was walking away though, (because he was Scott, why else) he bumped into a person. However, to much of our collective relief, that person turned out to be Allison, who dropped all of her books.

He proceeded to break into a grin, looking very relieved and then, they chatted a bit as Scott, ever the gentleman, crouched down next to Allison to help her catch her books.

I was brought out of my snooping around in Scott's love life by the principal's voice through the intercom.

" _Attention, students. This is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened classes will proceed as scheduled."_ The principal informed us and a collective sigh could be heard as all the students resumed their activities.

I felt Stiles nudge me and looked away from Scott and Allison to stare at him.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

He responded by raising his eyebrows and looking behind me, pointing with his eyes. I whirled around and saw a frustrated looking Jackson, trying to close the dented locker door. I snorted and returned Stiles' amused look, barely containing my laughter as we walked away from the 'crime scene', heading to our Chemistry class since the bell had already rung.

* * *

I was sitting next to Stiles in our Chemistry class, occasionally taking notes from the board as he chewed on his pen, looking outside to where the police was, probably trying to find out if there were any news.

"Maybe it was my blood on the door." Scott, who was sitting in front of us, suggested, whirling around in his stool.

"Could have been animal blood." Stiles offered. "You know? Maybe you caught a rabbit or something."

"And did what?" Scott questioned, looking genuinely confused.

"Ate it." Stiles simply replied.

"I sure hope you didn't make out with the poor bunny." I said, smirking as I remembered the nature of his Allison related dream.

"Raw?" Scott asked Stiles after making a face at me, looking appalled.

"No. You stopped bake it in your little werewolf oven!" Stiles said sarcastically and I snorted, amused. "I don't know, you're the that can't remember anything."

"Mr. Stilisnki, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones off every once in a while" Mr. Harris said as the other student's snickered. "I think you, Mr. McCall and Ms. Rivers could benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No." Stiles replied as Mr. Harris pointed the seats to where they should move. They picked up their stuff to move as I remained in my seat, watching them go.

"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much." Mr. Harris added as I was left alone in my place. Stiles laughed and I pouted as I turned my attention back to my notebook, adding a few notes.

Suddenly, the girl that Scott had sat next to on the front jumped up from her seat as she pointed outside saying: "Hey, I think they found something!"

We all rushed over to the window in time to see a man in a stretcher being pulled towards an ambulance.

"That's not a rabbit" Scott stated, looking at Stiles.

All of a sudden, the limp form rapidly sat up and we let out a collective yell of surprise as the man cried out in distress, almost like he was looking straight at us.

"Okay..." Stiles said, backing away from the window and I followed them to the back of the classroom. "This is good, this is good. He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."

"Stiles..." Scott trailed off. "I did that."

* * *

We were in the school cafeteria now, walking towards our usual table as we discussed the dream slash memory that Scott had had and tried to decipher it and its meaning.

"But dreams aren't memories." Stiles said.

"Then it wasn't a dream." Scott concluded as we laid down our trays on the table. "Something happened last night, and I can't remember what."

We sat down, me sitting to Stiles' left as he sat opposite of Scott, and I opened my orange juice bottle, staring at my slice of pepperoni pizza (the mad dash for the canteen had proved fruitful today).

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" Stiles asked, still refusing the possibility of asking the other werewolf for help.

"Because, during the full moon he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy." Scott explained.

"We don't know that." I offered as I took a bite off my pepperoni pizza.

"We don't _not_ know it." Scott replied. "I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel."

"No, you're not cancelling, okay?" Stiles said. "You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out."

I was about to say something but the words were lost as I incredulously stared at the person who was making her way over to us.

"Figure what out?" Lydia Martin asked as she sat down next to Scott while I just stared in shock at the miracle. Oh my god! Lydia must be possessed!

"Just, uh, homework." Scott covered.

"Yeah." Stiles agreed. "Why is she sitting with us?" He whispered that last part at us as Scott gestured that he had no idea.

"Christo." I whispered, examining Lydia for any signs of flinching and being incredibly disappointed when nothing of the sort happened. Pity, It would have been fun to exorcise her...

"Did you say something?" Stiles asked, whirling around in his chair to stare at me.

"What, me?" I asked, feigning innocence. "Just that the pizza's hot." I covered, taking another bite.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at me, clearly not convinced, but turned back around when Danny sat down next to him. Then, all of Lydia's crew occupied our table, siting around us. This is _so_ weird.

Allison appeared next to Scott and he hurriedly removed his things from the chair next to him so she could sit down.

"Thanks." She said, smiling at him in gratitude.

"Get up." I heard Jackson's voice say as I looked up and realized he was addressing the guy at the end of the table, who was sitting between Lydia and Danny.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" The guy whined.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot." Danny retorted, receiving a smile from Lydia as the guy got up. "So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion." Jackson stated.

"A cougar is a mountain lion." Lydia corrected, sounding annoyed as I looked at her in mild shock, similarly to the rest of the table. "Isn't it?" She asked Jackson, who had raised his eyebrows. Weird, it was like she was purposely trying to dumb herself down. Why? I have absolutely no idea. Who knows what goes on inside the head of Lydia Martin? I certainly don't.

"Who cares?" Jackson replied. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna to die anyway."

"Wow, everything is just rainbows and unicorns with you, isn't it, Jackson?" I sarcastically asked, irritated with his spoiled little rich brat ways.

He was about to say something back, however, he was interrupted by Stiles before he could get a sound out.

"Actually, I just found out who it is." Stiles announced, showing us his phone. "Check it out."

He leaned forward and held his phone in the middle of the table where everyone could see the screen.

" _The sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, survived the attack._ " The journalist's voice said as sheriff Stilinski appeared on the video, which switched to a photo of the victim a view seconds later. " _Meyers was taken to a local hospital, where he_ _remains in critical condition._ "

"I-I know this guy." Scott announced, recognizing the man in the picture.

"You do?" Allison asked, surprised.

"Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad." Scott explained. "He was the driver."

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia whined. "Like... oh! Where are we going tomorrow night?" She inquired, dropping her fork and looking at Allison who seemed confused. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"

"Hum, we were thinking of what we were going to do." Allison clarified.

"Well, I am not sitting home again, watching lacrosse videos, so if the six of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun." Lydia said, as I stared at her confused. Six?

"Six?" Stiles questioned, also looking confused.

"Aren't you going with Lexie?" She asked with her best innocent slash dumb face as I chocked on my pizza and Stiles on his water.

"What?" Stiles high shrieked with nearly bulging eyes. "Me and _Lexie?_ Lexie and _me_? No! Never! _Ever!_ I'm single! yup, totally single and ready for the taking."

Okay...Ouch. I get he's got a reputation to maintain in Lydia's eyes (not like she's going to care that he's not dating anyone) but damn! He's making it sound like I'm a leper! I mean I get that he doesn't think of me in that way, he's made that clear on plenty of occasions (not like it matters anyway: I'm not madly in love with him, bordering on obsession like he is with Lydia. I'm not in love with him at _all_! Where the hell did that thought even come from?) but everyone heard it the first time, no need to repeat it. It just sounds insulting if you do.

"I have plans anyway." I said. Plans of planting myself down on the couch and munching on popcorn while watching my favorite boys running around with an angel. But they don't need to know that...

"Pff, please." Jackson scoffed as I narrowed my eyes at him. "And what do does plans involve exactly? Sitting home alone doing absolutely nothing?"

I stayed silent, mostly because I couldn't think of a good come back, and sulked.

Lydia shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards Allison.

"So, we're hanging out?" Scott inquired. "Like the four of us? Do you want to hang out like... us and them?" I stifled a laugh. _Subtle_ , Scott. _Real subtle._

"I guess... Sounds fun." Allison replied.

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson inquired, picking up his fork. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

Wow! Jackson _finally_ had a good idea! I have been waiting millennia for this to happen!

"I volunteer!" I excitedly exclaimed, raising my hand.

Lydia grabbed the fork and swatted Jackson's hand away.

"How 'bout bowling?" She suggested. "You love to bowl."

"Yeah, with actual competition." Jackson scoffed.

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison asked, raising her eyebrows. "You can bowl right?"

Oh no _._

"Sort of..." Scott replied.

 _Oh no._

"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson inquired, challenging Scott.

"Yes." Scott stated.

 _Nooooooo!_

"In fact, I'm a great bowler." He concluded.

 _Damn it, you huge dofus, big ball of assbut! You did not just say that!_

I facepalmed and hastily drank the last of my orange juice before jumping up from the table, wanting to get as far as I could get from Lydia's clique. Scott and Stiles, who had also finished eating, trailed after me and the three of us left the cafeteria in a hurry.

"What the hell was that?" I inquired once we were outside of the canteen, giving Scott a pointed look.

"You're a terrible bowler!" Stiles exclaimed, also frustrated, as we walked down the steps.

"I know! Scott replied. " I'm such an idiot!"

"Yes, yes you are, Scott McCall." I confirmed. "What possessed you to say such things? Was it Crowley?"

"What?" Scott asked, confused before shaking his head.

"God, it was like watching a car wreck!" Stiles said. "I mean first it turned into the whole group date thing. And then, out of nowhere, comes that phrase. Hang out. You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death." Stiles stated, making me narrow my eyes at him. "Once it's hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out now."

I cleared my throat and glared at Stiles, who appeared clueless.

"What?" He asked and I smacked him in the back of the head. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Think, Stiles!" I rolled my eyes, gesturing at my chest. "Girl here! Who has hanged out with you for like, twelve years."

His face remained blank for a few more seconds before understanding dawned upon him and he seemed flustered.

"Ohh." He said. "But you're different... you're like one of the guys." He quickly tried justifying, rubbing the back of his head.

"This morning I was apparently girl enough for you to not talk to me about Allison and 'other stuff' and now I'm one of the guys?" I scoffed, making air quotes and rolled my eyes.

"It's different..." Stiles repeated. "Scott wants to date Allison, and if he hangs out with her..."

"He might as well be Danny, yes." I supplied.

"How is this happening?" Scott groaned in frustration. "I either killed a guy or I didn't."

"I don't think Danny likes me very much..." Stiles said.

"I ask Allison on a date, and now we're hanging out." Scott added.

"Am I unattractive to gay guys?" Stiles asked and I snorted.

"I make first line and the team captain wants to destroy me, and now, I'm gonna be late for work." Scott stated, checking the time on his phone.

"Wait, Scott!" Stiles called out. "You didn't- am I attractive to gay guy-? You didn't answer my question..."

I snorted again and patted Stiles on the back.

"Sure you are Stiles, just not the hot ones." I winked and whirled around, heading to his jeep.

I made my way outside with Stiles trailing after me and stopped by his jeep, waiting for him. He unlocked the car and we entered the jeep.

He pulled off the high school and I rummaged through my backpack, searching for my keys. After about two minutes of searching blindly inside the bag, I gave up and started taking everything out of it.

"Did you lose something?" Stiles inquired, making a right turn.

"No, I think I left my keys at home... And no one's there to let me in." I groaned in frustration as I realized I had no way of getting inside my house. "Can you take me to the hospital instead? I'll wait for my dad there."

"Sure, no problem. But don't you have a spare hidden or something?" Stiles questioned, changing courses.

"No, my parents think it's too risky." I explained, sighing as I realized I would probably have to wait a few hours if my dad was in the midst of a surgery.

"Okay." Stiles replied. "It would avoid these problems, though."

"Yeah." I said, looking out he window.

He drove for the next eight minutes, occasionally talking, until we arrived at the Beacon Hills hospital.

I exited the jeep and said goodbye to him, watching the jeep drive off before entering the building.

I walked through the waiting room, heading for the reception desk and waiting patiently for a nurse I didn't recognize (she must be new) to finish a call. If there was one thing you learned when one of your parents was a doctor, it was patience. She hung up after a while and gave me a tired smile.

"Can I help you?" The nurse asked.

"Yeah, I'm looking for my dad. Doctor Rivers, orthopedic surgeon. Can you tell me where he is?." I inquired, internally praying that he wasn't in a surgery.

She fumbled with some papers, typing something in her computer before turning to look at me again.

"He's currently performing a surgery." She replied as my shoulders sagged in disappointment. Waiting it is.

"How long?" I questioned.

"They've just started so... two to three hours." She concluded, giving me an apologetic look.

"Thanks." I said, giving her a smile that didn't reach my eyes and headed for the chairs in the waiting room.

I figured that if I was going to be waiting three hours I should do something productive and not completely waste my time, so I removed my jacket, placing it on the back of the chair and picked up my backpack, removing my French notebook and student's book to start working on some homework.

About an hour later, Melissa McCall appeared in the waiting room and I greeted her, throwing her a smile. I continued my homework, doing math now (I had left Math for last because it was the easiest one) and completely focused on my equations.

After half an hour passed, a grinning Scott came through the hospital doors, holding a paper bag and heading for his mother.

"Is my beautiful, talented and wonderful son actually bringing me dinner?" Melissa McCall inquired, smiling at her son who leaned against the reception desk.

"Thought you wouldn't mind skipping the cafeteria tonight." Scott explained.

"You are the most thoughtful, loving and conniving little con artist ever." Melissa McCall replied and I snorted as I saw Scott's face drop.

He whirled his head around around in surprise and his eyes locked on me. Werewolf senses, _right._ I keep forgetting that.

"Lexie?" He inquired, confused and I waved at him.

"You are _so_ not getting the car tomorrow night." Melissa McCall informed, crossing her arms.

"Mom." Scott whined, turning his head back around to look at his mother.

"What? There's a curfew, no car." Melissa said with a smug grin. "But I will take this. Love you."

"Love you too." Scott replied, pushing himself away from the desk.

Scott looked towards me and walked over.

"Hey." I greeted, reaching for my calculator.

"Hey" He replied, looking confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for my dad. Kind of forgot my house keys..." I explained.

"Oh." He smirked.

Suddenly, he whirled his head around, as if looking for the source of a sound only he had heard.

"What?" I inquired.

He didn't respond, simply starting to slowly walk down the hall.

I frowned, leaning forward so he was in my line of sight, but didn't get up from my seat.

He paused in front of a door, hand hovering over the door handle. After a few seconds of hesitation, he opened the door, stepping inside the room. My curiosity took over and I stuffed my things inside my backpack before walking over to the suspicious door.

I stood in front of it for a few seconds, checking to see if anyone was watching me. After I confirmed I was indeed clear to move forward, I hastily entered the room, whirling around in surprise as I heard someone yelling. I saw Scott being clutched on by Mr. Meyers, the victim from the bus, who was in obvious distress, thrashing around and screaming.

I barely had time to react before Melissa McCall was suddenly by our side, ordering us to leave. Scott then grabbed my arm as he rushed out of the room and we both reentered the hallway, giving each other panicky looks.

"What the hell was that?" I shrieked.

"I don't know!" Scott exclaimed. "I just, felt something there and wanted to see what it was."

"Felt?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah, I-I can't explain it." Scott replied.

"Well, the next time you _feel_ something, give a girl some warning." I said, readjusting the strap of my backpack in my shoulder.

"You're the one that came after me." Scott added, frowning. "Anyway, I need to get going. I'm heading to Derek's."

"What?" I inquired, looking at him in surprise. "You're going to ask for his help?"

"Yeah, I need to be able to control myself." Scott replied.

"Fine." I consented. "I know I can't stop you, not if it has remotely anything to do with Allison, anyways... So, I'm just gonna ask you to be careful."

He nodded and walked away as I headed back to the seats of the waiting room to resume the wait for my father.

I finished the little math problem I had left and picked up my phone, playing games to kill time (I particularly liked the snake one).

Another two hours passed until, finally my dad appeared in the waiting room. I got up and headed over to him.

"What happened?" He asked me, confused.

"I forgot my keys and have no way of getting home." I explained, embarrassed as he gave me an annoyed and slightly disappointed look.

"You have to pay more attention to these things, Lexie." He scolded me.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry..." I trailed off.

"You seem to be apologizing a lot lately." My dad said, shaking his head. "Wait here while I go get my stuff to drive you home."

* * *

I was in the living room practicing piano when I got a call from Stiles.

"Hello?" I said, answering the phone after I'd stopped playing.

"Hi. Lex, we're heading over to the school. Scott says he needs to get back on the bus so he can remember what happened. You coming?" Stiles asked.

I looked at my mother and brother who were sitting at the dinning table, my mother helping Tommy with his homework. There was no way she was going to let me leave with the police reinforced curfew.

"You're gonna have to make do without me, sorry." I said, sighing.

"But then who's going to be on the lookout?" He whined.

"You are. And you better do one hell of a job." I joked.

"Fine." He said, grumbling incomprehensively.

We said goodbye to each other and hung up.

I looked back at the music sheet and proceeded with my playing.

I'd started practicing piano when I was five years old, my mother had enrolled me in classes because it was kind of a tradition in our family. When I first started playing, though, I didn't like it. In fact, I hated it. However, when I changed teachers (I guess you could justify my distaste of the instrument with the assigned teacher) at the age of seven, it started growing on me and I discovered, after a while, that I actually loved it. I quit classes when I entered high school, but I still play regularly, loving the feeling of producing music with nothing but my bare hands (and a piano, of course).

I practiced for a while more, playing some scales, before my brother finished his homework and started bugging me to play monopoly with him. I caved in after ten minutes and we sat down on the floor of the living room between the couch and the tv, trying to keep Bacon from chewing on the dice.

We had been playing for a while when the familiar 'smoke on the water' tune rang. I scrambled for my phone and found the caller to be Stiles.

"Stiles?" I asked as I answered the call.

"Lex, hey. We just left the school." Stiles informed me.

"What happened? Did Scott remember anything?" I inquired, feeling suddenly anxious.

"Yeah, he says he was there last night." Stiles replied, making my stomach drop. So, Scott did attack Mr. Meyers. "But Scott was actually trying to protect the driver from Derek." Stiles finished explaining and I felt immediately relieved. And then not, because Derek Hale was back on our blacklist.

"Derek was there?" I questioned.

"Yeah, apparently." Stiles said, and I heard Scott's voice in the background. I couldn't figure out what he'd said, though.

"Wait, Derek was the one to tell Scott to get back to the thing, correct? Why would he help Scott remember what happened if he was the one that...did _it_ the first place?" I asked, feeling confused and trying to avoid vocabulary that would give out to much information to my brother and make him worry. He worries more than he should for his age, anyway.

"I thought that too. So I'm thinking it's got to be a pack thing." Stiles explained.

"What?" I questioned, still confused.

"It's like an initiation, doing the kill together." Stiles clarified.

"That is seriously messed up." I commented.

"Yup. But the good news is Scott didn't do it." Stiles said. "Which means, we don't have to worry about being brutally killed to... death."

"Killed to death? Much english such good speak, Stiles." I snorted and mocked.

"You get what I mean." He whined.

"Yeah, and he can go out with Allison now!" I exclaimed with enthusiasm for my friend.

"Not yo- Shut up, Scott!" Stiles said as I heard chuckling from the other end of the phone line.

"Right, I'll see you tomorrow then." I said as I noticed my brother growing impatient, holding the dice away from Bacon.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Stiles replied before hanging up.

* * *

It was a Thursday afternoon (after school) and I had just gotten a ride from Stiles to my house, where I was currently alone at.

I walked upstairs, heading for my bedroom to pack up the things I would need tomorrow. After I had packed all the books I started looking for my graphic calculator since I had math tomorrow. When I couldn't find it in my room, I moved to the living room and kitchen. After that, in an act of desperation, I searched the bathrooms and garage.

Eventually, I gave up searching for it and tried to recall where I had seen it last. I couldn't exactly just announce it to my parents I'd lost my graphic calculator (a TI-Nspire CX), those bad boys are seriously expensive! I remembered using it in math class yesterday and then I... had gone to the hospital! I remember putting my calculator down on a side table while I packed, I must have left it there.

I cursed as I realized I would have to walk to the hospital to go get it, hopefully making it back before anyone was home. I hurriedly threw on some leggings, a sweat shirt and running shoes before running out of the house, locking the front door with haste. Thankfully, my mother was coming home extra late today because of some parent-teacher conferences at the elementary school.

I ran down the street and headed for the hospital, taking a few shortcuts I learned over the years, now hoping that I had brought a water bottle.

I ran for a good while, which felt like five hours but were probably just thirty minutes or an hour, before arriving at my destination, sweaty and panting. How do athletes do it? Actually, let me rephrase that: how the hell do athletes _like_ doing it?

I entered the building and headed for the reception's desk to ask for my calculator. As I approached it, I realized the nurse on duty was Melissa McCall, who was currently paying attention to some papers she was sifting through.

I leaned against the desk and she raised her head up to look at me, recognition in her eyes.

"Lexie, good to see you." Melissa greeted, smiling at me. "Two days in a row?"

"Yeah... About that, do happen to have fou-" I started to ask, feeling a bit embarrassed but stopped when Melissa smiled and raised her hand which was holding a calculator, a TI-Nspire CX calculator to be precise.

"Are you looking for this?" She inquired.

"Thank God!" I cried out in relief as I launched myself over the desk with my biggest smile ever to encage Melissa McCall in a bear hug, which probably looked all kinds of awkward to surrounding spectators. "You are a life saver, Melissa McCall!"

"It kind of comes with the territory, you know? I can't breathe, Lexie!" Melissa grunted out and I released her, internally leaping in joy.

"Right, sorry." I replied, still with my 100 watt smile. "Thank you so, _so_ much!"

"Yeah, no problem. Just, try to be more... careful." She said handing me the calculator as the computer beeped. "I've got to go, it was nice to see you." She hurriedly said as she ran down the hall.

I looked down at the calculator in my hand and frowned. I might have miscalculated this... Now I'm going to have to run back home with a calculator the size of a brick in my hand and risk being committed to Eichen House. I mean, what kind of lunatic takes his calculator for a walk? Yup, this girl, who was not crazy at all, pinky swear.

I turned around and started heading for the door when I recognized someone who was currently in the process of walking inside the hospital. A certain person who had a tendency for the black and dark and possibly a maniac werewolfy killer. Yes, you have guessed correctly, Derek Hale was walking inside this hospital. I kind of froze in my place and gulped as I watched him walking closer to where I was standing. Suddenly he stiffened and his head swiftly whirled around, his gaze locking on me and he stopped dead in his tracks.

I could feel his annoyance and irritation growing as he changed courses and headed towards me, still as hot as scalding water. What the hell is wrong with me? I seriously need to stop thinking like that! Stupid teenage hormones.

 _No!_ Go _away!_ Shoo, leave me _aloneee_!

He paid no heed to my mental orders and I could feel my heart beating faster as he approached me. Out of fear or other emotions, I couldn't really tell (and didn't want to either).

"What are you doing here?" He asked in an annoyed and typical-Derek-low voice.

"I-I a... calculator!" I exclaimed, waving the hand that was holding the calculator around.

He raised his eyebrows in an unimpressed way and rolled his eyes before turning around, walking towards the hall.

"Get out of here." He commanded and I suddenly felt enraged at his words. Who the hell was he to tell me what to do?

So I did the stupid thing to do in this situation (obviously), and raced after him.

"Where are you going?" I inquired, frowning.

"Go away." He growled, looking annoyed.

"No." I simply replied, smirking at him, recalling a night not long ago when that seemed to be the only word he knew.

He glared at me, obviously expecting me to back down but I raised my chin and stood my ground. The hell I was going to act like a puppy and do as I was told, I could be stubborn as hell and I didn't care if it got me killed. Okay, I obviously cared enough not to die, which will probably happen since I just challenged a psycho murderous werewolf. I changed my mind, someone commit me to Eichen house immediately. I _am_ a lunatic.

He growled (beasty much?) and resumed his walk to unknown location, me trailing after him. To my surprise, he headed to the room where Mr. Meyers was currently at.

"Wait, what are you gonna do?" I inquired, frowning at him as he opened the door.

He ignored me, entering the room and I followed him.

He stopped by Mr. Meyers bed and glared at him for a few seconds. I started to grow uneasy, shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

"Open your eyes." Derek commanded, staring at the man in the gurney.

I looked at him like he was crazy, which he apparently was.

"Open your eyes." Derek repeated.

"Are you crazy? He's not gon-" I stopped talking when Mr. Meyers eyes fluttered open. What the hell?

Derek gave an annoyed look and turned back to the driver.

"Look at me." He demanded and Mr. Meyers slowly turned his head.

"What do you remember?" Derek inquired.

"Hale." The man replied as I raised my eyebrows in surprise and looked at Derek, who appeared confused.

"How do you know my name?" Derek questioned.

"I'm sorry." Mr. Meyers said.

"How do you know me?" Derek asked, growing impatient.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, lowering his head back down.

Suddenly the machine that was hooked to started beeping and on the monitor that marked heart blood pressure only a straight line could be seen. My eyes widened in horror and I looked at Derek, completely lost.

He cursed and grabbed my arm, pushing me towards the window. He tried pushing it open but it didn't budge, probably locked. He tried again, though, and this time, it flew open all the way up. He stepped outside and I clumsily followed after him, somehow landing on my butt. Embarrassing...

He groaned in exasperation and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet.

"Why were you looking for answers? You were at the bus." I stated what sounded more like a question, the shock from the beeping machine fading a bit due to my embarrassment.

"Who told you that?" He inquired, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Scott." I replied and he huffed in annoyance.

"I wasn't at the bus. Why would I help him remember what happened if I had caused it?" He said and I shrugged my shoulders. "It wasn't me, There's another one." He informed me and I felt my stomach drop.

Not good.

"He's bad, isn't he? And strong, stronger than you and Scott. He's the one that killed your sister!" I exclaimed in realization.

"Yes." He replied, his face blank of emotion. "You should leave now."

"Yeah." I agreed, looking at the road in dread. I'd have to run back, argh. Kill me now.

I started walking towards the street.

"What are you doing?" Derek inquired after a while as I stopped in my tracks and whirled around.

"I kind of ran here..." I trailed off, feeling, once again, embarrassed.

He rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance before starting to walk away.

"Come on." He grunted out and I hesitated for a moment before trailing after him.

We headed for the black Camaro and got in. Huh, this is the second time I've gotten a ride form him.

He pulled off the hospital and started driving down the road, making a right turn. I suddenly remembered that he hand't asked me for directions the first time he gave me a ride.

"How did you know where I live?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows at him.

"I did my homework." He replied.

"Meaning: you stalked me." I concluded.

"No." He said, rolling his eyes and I narrowed my eyes at him. Unfortunately, it didn't appear to have the same effect it had on Stiles as Derek remained silent.

We stayed silent for a minute or two as I stared out the window at the familiar woods.

"Was the other werewolf the one to bite Scott?" I inquired, turning to look at Derek.

"Yes. He's an alpha, the only one of our kind who can turn people into werewolves through a bite." He replied after a few seconds.

"How many kinds of werewolves are there?" I questioned, feeling curious.

"Three." He said. "Omega, a lone wolf; beta, me and Scott; and alpha, the strongest and leader of the pack"

"Okay." I said, nodding in understanding. "So, will you help Scott?"

"That depends." He replied.

"On what?" I inquired.

"On whether he helps me back or not. Assuming he'll even take my help." He replied. "You should talk some sense into him, try to keep him from getting killed."

"What do you want in return?" I questioned, a bit suspicious.

"I need his help killing the alpha." He answered like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What? You're going to kill him?" I cried out, eyes widening in shock.

"He killed my sister. And he will continue to kill if he isn't stopped, trust me." Derek justified.

"But... killing? Can't we just..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Hand him over to the police?" Derek scoffed and I averted my eyes downward. "They're not exactly equipped to handle this kind of thing, and I'm sure you wound't want anything to happen to the sheriff."

I shuddered at the thought and remained silent, accepting defeat.

"I'm still not okay with killing." I stated, shaking my head.

"It doesn't matter what you're okay with." Derek replied, shrugging as I frowned at him.

He drove for a few more minutes before arriving at my house and I jumped out of the car, thanking him for the ride.

I ran up to the house and entered, quietly closing the door behind me. It did no good though.

"Lexie Rae Rivers!" I cringed as I heard my mom's angry voice.

"Yes?" I dragged out the reply as I entered the living room. I would have had my tail tucked between my legs if was Bacon.

"May I ask where you where all evening?" She asked, pursing her lips. "I suppose you didn't just leave seconds before I arrived."

"I walked to the hospital..." I answered. "I forgot my calculator there yesterday. But I got it back!" quickly added, waving it around so as to demonstrate my point.

"Don't think I didn't notice you arrived in a car." My mother raised her eyebrows at me.

"A friend gave me a ride..." I replied.

"A friend?" She asked me skeptically.

"I have friends!" I cried out indignantly.

"Besides Scott and Stiles, I have never seen you with anyone else." She stated. "And I am not about to believe Scott or Stiles just got a fancy new car."

"He's a new friend..." I trailed off and my mom perked up a bit at my sentence. Yup, she's one of those mom's.

"A boy friend?" She questioned, visibly interested.

"Not really." I replied. "He's just an acquaintance, a friend of a friend, if you will."

"A friend of a friend gave you a ride home?" My mom inquired, not convinced.

"Mom! Can't we skip the third degree? Yes, he's a boy and a friend! No, he is not nor will be a boyfriend!" I answered, raising my hands.

"Fine." My mom consented and I let out a sigh of relief, turning around to walk away towards my bedroom. "But don't think I forgot about this. Please refrain from taking long walks at night in the near future." She yelled out that last part since I was already on the stairs.

"It wasn't night when I started walking!" I protested.

I entered my room and plopped myself down on my bed, reaching for my laptop. I opened it and resumed the supernatural episode I was watching before Bacon's snout peaked behind my bedroom's door. He opened it and came over to lie by my side, jumping onto the bed.

I petted him and lost myself in Winchester hotness (don't cry Cas, you're hot too).

* * *

 **A/N: So there goes another chapter :-). Please tell me what you think of this story, is it worth my time?**

 **As always, feel free to point out any mistakes that you find (I will only get better by learning from my mistakes) and feel free to ask me anything 'bout the story!**

 **Thank's for reading ;-)**

 **Xau & Beijocas xoxo**


	4. Magic Bullet

**Cry me a river - Chapter 4: Magic Bullet**

 **A/N: Howdy ;) ! So yet another chapter for this story. Sorry for taking longer than I used to, I was feeling particularly uninspired this week. Anyways, enough about me, let's get onto the story!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own teen wolf or any other stuff you may or may not recognize except for my OCs.**

* * *

I was sitting to Stiles' right in class and Scott was sitting in front of him as the teacher delivered our tests. Scott was staring nervously at the pile of tests on the teacher's hands, shaking both his legs and Stiles was doodling on his notebook as I bit my nails.

Today I had dressed in a rush since I had slept in late but I chose my usual grey jeans, a loose red tank top and flats to match, before running downstairs to grab breakfast in a hurry. I barely had two minutes before Stiles was honking from outside my house. So I finished my breakfast in the jeep as we were headed to school.

I grew nervous and started to shake my right leg as the teacher approached my spot, handing Hannah, who was sitting at the top of the row I was in, her test. He then moved onto Sarah who started bitching about her grade. I gulped, fidgeting with my hands.

Stiles tapped Scott's shoulder with his pencil and Scott turned backwards to look at him.

"If Derek isn't the alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who did?" Stiles inquired and Scott slightly shrugged his shoulders after a few seconds.

"I don't know." Scott responded.

"No one does, really." I added, glancing at Stiles.

"Did the alpha kill the bus driver?" Stiles asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"I don't know." Scott repeated as Stiles leaned back in his seat and huffed.

"Does Allison's dad know about the alp-?" Stiles questioned, leaning forward again.

"I don't know!" Scott loudly snapped, fully turning around in his seat to glower at Stiles and thus capturing the attention of the entire class as the teacher finally reached my seat.

He handed me my test and I nervously glanced at it. It was a B-, I realized as I sighed and sagged in my seat in relief. It wasn't perfect but I barely had enough time to study for it. I'd totally forgotten about it until the day before, and I only remembered it because Stiles mentioned it. So, I had a crazy intense study marathon, which, by the way, sucks, and arrived at school on the day of the test with serious sleep deprivation. So B- wasn't half bad, not compared to what I was expecting (more along the lines of a D).

Stiles then received his test and I peaked at it, noticing that he'd gotten an A.

"Nice." I said in appraisal at Stiles, feeling happy for my friend as Scott's turn was up.

I immediately winced as I noticed the amount of red on his test when the teacher handed it to him. It was a bit hard not to notice, the massive amount of red pen used was so obvious it was basically yelling out for attention. That ought to be bad.

He held up his test and I realized it was a D- as I cringed again.

Stiles leaned forward in his seat, glancing over at Scott's test.

"Dude, you need to study more." Stiles said and Scott put his test down angrily. "That was a joke. Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?"

"Yeah." I agreed, looking at Scott with concern. "You know we're here for you whenever you need us."

"Thanks, but no need. I'm studying with Allison after school today." Scott replied, shaking his head in a negative motion.

"That's my boy!" Stiles exclaimed as I grinned knowingly.

"We're just studying." Scott clarified.

"Huh, no, you're not." Stiles stated.

"No, I'm not?" Scott inquired, confused.

"Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you." Stiles explained as I grinned in amusement. "If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I-I swear to God, I'll have you de-balled." Stiles concluded as I snorted.

"Okay, just... stop with the questions, man." Scott replied.

"Done. No more questions." Stiles said as I raised my eyebrows at him in disbelief.

"What? I can shut up!" He exclaimed at my disbelieving expression. I just raised my eyebrows further in response. "No more talk about the alpha, or Derek. Specially Derek... who still scares me." Stiles said as he shuddered.

* * *

I was trailing after Stiles as we made our way to the parking lot after school. We descended the entrance stairs, among the masses of students that ended their classes at the same time we did, and headed for the all too familiar blue jeep as Scott left us to go get his bike, which he used for transportation.

I looked back at him, waving goodbye, action which caused me to not pay attention to the ground, which ultimately and inevitably led to me tripping and falling on the concrete floor on my knees, hard. I cussed and groaned as Stiles stopped in his tracks, looking back and rolling his eyes as he spotted me on the floor.

"Come on." He said, moving back to where I was, still on the ground, and grabbing my arm before helping me up. "Are you ok?" He asked once I was standing and sweeping the dirt off my clothes.

"Yeah." I replied looking down at my knees. The tissue of the jeans on my right knee was ripped open and I could feel a slight sting on my knee. "I just scraped my knee. Why does this keep happening to me?" I whined, cursing the powers that be for my incredible and unbelievable clumsiness.

"Your sense of coordination sucks, you're more prone to injury than anyone else in the entire world, your level of clumsiness is off the charts. Take a pick." He shrugged as he let go of my arm and we entered the jeep.

"You're just as clumsy as I am, if not more!" I refuted as he started the engine.

"My brand of clumsiness is completely different." He explained.

"What?" I asked as I looked at him, confused. "Please, elaborate."

"You can't compare. My brand of clumsiness involves a lot of flailing and sputtering, much due to my ADHD, whereas yours just involves a lot of falling around and tripping on your own two feet, solely and exclusively a product of your own personality." He clarified as he pulled off the parking space.

"Wow!" He exclaimed as he suddenly slammed on the brakes. I gasped in surprise and whirled my head around to look at what had caused him to stop.

My eyes widened as I took in Derek Hale, who was holding a hand up in the air against the jeep and appeared to be having trouble standing up.

"My God!" Stiles said as Derek swayed before falling backwards and I looked at Stiles, as if waiting for him to tell me what to do. "You gotta be kidding me, this guy is everywhere."

The cars behind us started to honk, the drivers growing impatient as we held up the queue to leave the parking lot, the one that granted these needy teenagers the freedom they all so desperately seeked.

"What the hell?" Scott inquired, suddenly appearing by the driver's side window. He moved over to Derek, crouching next to him as Stiles and I exited the jeep.

"I was shot." I heard Derek say, a bit breathless. He didn't look too good... He was looking at the ground, as if trying to ground himself (probably a tactic to keep his wolf at bay) and was looking awfully and unhealthy pale.

"He's not looking so good dude." Stiles said, mirroring my own thoughts. Great minds think alike, right?

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott inquired, looking at Derek with a confused look.

"I can't... It wa-was a different kind of bullet." Derek explained.

"A silver bullet?"Stiles and I asked at the same time, presenting a way too eager expression on our faces.

"No, you idiots." Derek replied, looking up at us with an annoyed look.

"Wait, wait!" Scott exclaimed. "That's what she meant when she said you had forty eight hours." He informed us as we all turned to stare at him.

"What?" Derek questioned. "Wh-who said I had forty eight hours?"

"The one who shot you." Scott clarified, as Derek suddenly spasmed and his eyes flashed electric blue. Huh, I thought werewolves eyes were always yellow, I'll have to read up on that later. Scott started furiously whirling his head around with an alarmed look on his face, probably checking to see if anyone was seeing Derek's eyes change color. "What are you doing? Stop that!"

"I'm trying to tell you, I can't!" Derek groaned out as I looked back at the incessant honking and saw some people starting to exit their cars to see what was holding up the line. Damn teenagers and their stupid curiosity!

"We need to hurry up, guys!" I nervously informed them, glancing back, worried.

"Derek, get up!" Scott ordered as he got up and slipped his arms under Derek's. "Help me put him in your car."

I moved over to Scott, supporting Derek's left as Scott supported his right and helped him to the jeep, putting him in the front seat after Stiles opened the door.

"I need you to find what kind of bullet they used." Derek said to Scott once he was sitting.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Scott inquired.

"'Cause she's an Argent, she's with them." Derek explained, and my mind automatically assumed Allison, as I am sure everyone else's did.

"Why should I help you?" Scott questioned and I frowned at his question. I mean, why shouldn't we? We had already established that Derek hadn't killed anyone and hadn't bitten Scott either, so he wasn't necessarily a bad guy anymore, right? Isn't it common practice to help save the innocents? You know, make the world a better place and all that crap?

I was brought out of my internal debate as I noticed Stiles started to walk back to the the other side of the jeep and I trailed after him.

"Because you need me." I heard Derek say faintly from the other side of the jeep.

"Fine, I'll try." Scott relented as I climbed in the backseat of the jeep. "Hey, get him out of here." Scott told Stiles, who got in the driver's seat.

"I hate you for this, so much." Stiles said, sulking as he pulled off the parking lot.

I proceeded to silently examine Derek, who seemed to be in an awful lot of pain. He was groaning and pressing his eyes shut as he tried to hold his left arm still with his other arm, presumably trying to minimize the pain he felt due to the motions of the jeep hitting the bumps in the road.

I glanced at his hand and noticed that darkened blood was running down his arm, appearing behind his jacket sleeve. I felt like I should do something, _needed_ to do something, to ease his pain. I had no idea how to go about it, though, so I did the first that came to mind and placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently so I could provide some kind of comfort, even if minimum. He tensed under my touch, but didn't comment on it, simply remaining silent as he averted his eyes downward again, breathing in deeply.

"Are you doing okay?" I asked, trying to push as much empathy as I could onto my voice.

He remained silent for a bit, and just as I thought he was going to outright ignore me and harshly shrug my hand of his shoulder, he spoke.

"For now." He faintly said.

Stiles glanced our way, taking curiosity in the exchange before averting his eyes back to the road. We drove in silence for awhile, me occasionally stealing glances at Derek, who was looking worse for wear.

"Do you have any guesses as to what the bullet was made from?" I asked, leaning forward in the seat, my hand still resting on his shoulder.

"Probably wolfsbane, but I-I need to know which kind. They could have... different effects, de-depending on the species." Derek groaned out after a few seconds, looking pained.

"And how much time have we got left?" I inquired.

"I don't know, may-maybe a day." Derek replied as I winced. All this talk of death was making me uneasy. I absorbed the information in silence leaning back in my seat and taking my hand off Derek's shoulder, who immediately stiffened, as if affected negatively by the sudden loss of contact.

Stiles started tapping on the steering wheel and I could almost feel his patient growing thinner by the second.

After a minute or so, he exhaled deeply in irritation and reached for the back pocket of his pants.

"Okay, he definitely had long enough. I'm calling Scott." Stiles snapped, scowling as he angrily picked up his phone and started dialing what I assumed to be Scott's number.

He held it up to his ear and cursed after a minute, his scowl deepening when Scott didn't answer.

"Come on, Scott." He all but growled out as he dialed Scott's number again, earning a strange look from me. Is every male in Beacon Hills secretly entering a contest to see who is the most ferocious or something? Seriously, what the hell is up? Everybody is either growling or howling over here.

When he still didn't answer, Stiles let out another growl, glowering at the phone as if it was the one to blame for Scott's lack of answer, before punching in a text with irritation as clear as day on his face.

My attention was stolen from the text Stiles was sending, to Derek, who was currently in mid-progress of taking of his jacket in a fit of frustration before leaning back in his seat.

I was unabashedly staring at Derek when Stiles' phone beeped with what I presumed was Scott's reply. I leaned forward in my seat, curious to see what Scott's answer was as Stiles held his phone up to read the text. It simply said: _Need more time._

"C'mon." Stiles grunted in frustration as he angrily dumped his phone. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek questioned, looking paler by the second.

"Your house." Stiles explained as Derek looked up at him, alarmed.

"What?" Derek said. "No, you can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles inquired, looking at him in amused disbelief.

"Not when I can't protect myself." Derek replied, looking at Stiles as if he was the stupidest person in the entire world.

"All right." Stiles said, clearly having enough as he pulled over and killed the engine with exasperation."What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?" Stiles inquired, fully turning around to face Derek as I looked at him with my moth agape, surprised at his outburst. I could almost feel the testosterone rising inside the jeep.

"Not yet. I have a last resort." Derek explained and I could feel the dread growing within me. I have a very bad feeling about this last resort...

"What do you mean? What last resort?" Stiles snapped as Derek pulled up his sleeve, revealing the wound. My eyes widened as I took in the huge gaping hole in his upper forearm, which was painfully obvious with darkened blood all around it. I winced and gasped, looking away from the sight of the vomit inducing wound as fast as I could, feeling a little sick to the stomach myself.

"Oh my God. What is that?" Stiles inquired, also looking away in disgust. "Huh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

"Stiles!" I scolded, glaring at him through the nausea I was feeling.

"Start the car." Derek ordered, gritting his teeth. "Now."

"Yeah, I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay?" Stiles said as I looked at him in astonishment. What the hell's gotten into Stiles? He's never like this. It almost looks like he's... territorial? Whaaaaa? "I-in fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

"Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out... with my teeth." Derek replied, gritting his teeth for greater emphasis as Stiles stared at him for a few seconds before reluctantly turning on the engine and pulling off the side of the road.

"So, where are we going now?" I inquired, daring to break the silence which was almost deafening by now.

"No idea." Stiles said, glowering at Derek. "I'll just drive around until I hear from Scott."

I reached into my backpack, retrieving my phone so I could text and warn my mom that I would be hanging out with Stiles until late today.

Once I hit sent, I stored my phone in my jeans' back pocket and focused back on trying to find alternative solutions to the impending problem of Derek's death, in case the current plan didn't pan out and Scott couldn't find the bullet.

I shared some of my theories and we proceeded to discuss various scenarios and solutions, but none of them were good enough and every single one got shot down.

By the time our collective patience was running thinner than I could ever think was possible, the sun had set and Derek was looking sicker and paler by the second. My mind had started to wonder about various unpleasant directions the night could take, hoping to God none of them happened. I really didn't want Derek to die, or anyone for that matter (unless they were evil like Lucifer or Zachariah, those bitches deserve to burn in hell) if we had a remote snowball's chance in hell of saving them.

Then, as if divine intervention, Stiles' phone started ringing and he pulled over to the side of the road before fumbling with his pockets for the phone. I held my breath and leaned forward in the back seat, hoping it was Scott calling, saying that he'd found the bullet and everything would be okay. A little bit of wishful thinking never hurt anyone... probably.

Stiles held the phone up and we let out a collective sigh of relief as Scott's name appeared on the screen, identifying the caller.

"Scott?" Stiles asked with urgency after accepting the call and putting it on speaker.

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, I don't have a lot of time. I'm supposed to be in the bathroom." I heard Scott explain in a hurry through the phone.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles asked and you could hear the patience fading in his voice.

"I don't know, take him somewhere, anywhere." Scott replied and I could hear the sound of him pacing in the background.

"And by the way, he's starting to smell." Stiles huffed, making Derek glare at him.

"Li-like what?" Scott inquired.

"Like death!" Stiles hissed out as I frowned, even though I had to admit that he wasn't completely wrong. There was a particularly uninviting scent emanating from Derek for awhile now...

"Take him to the animal clinic!" Scott suggested, as I frowned in confusion and Derek scowled.

"What? What about your boss?" I said, voicing my confusion aloud.

"He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster." Scott explained as Stiles sighed in frustration.

"Give me the phone." Derek ordered, holding out his right hand for Stiles to hand him the phone.

Stiles did as was requested and Derek brought the phone closer to his mouth so he wouldn't have to strain himself by speaking loudly.

"Did you find it?" Derek inquired, taking deep breaths between words.

"How am I supposed to find _one_ bullet?" Scott asked with irritation seeping through his voice."They have a million. This house is like... the freaking Walmart of guns."

"Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead, all right?" Derek said as I shuddered.

"I'm started to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing." Scott replied, making me want to smack him through the phone.

"Then think about this. The alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, you either kill with him or you get killed." Derek explained. "So, if you want to stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet."

Derek hung up and tossed the phone back to Stiles, who pulled off the side of the road, heading for the animal clinic.

I bit my nails and leaned back in my seat as we drove in silence the rest of the way, with the occasional grunt of pain from Derek breaking the silence and making me cringe.

Once Stiles arrived at the clinic, he exited the jeep and I scrambled out after him, all but running to the dumpster and hurriedly retrieving the key (the damn thing feel twice from my hands before I could securely hold it. Damn butter fingers!) from the box that laid behind it. As soon as I had it, I ran back to where Stiles was, unlocking the door before he pulled it open. Derek stumbled in after us and we stopped in our tracks as we heard Stiles' phone beeping with a text. Derek collapsed against the wall, ending up on top of animal food bags, with droplets of seat dripping from his forehead as Stiles opened the text.

I sorrowfully looked at the painful expression on Derek's face, he was the epitome of sickness right now.

"Does northern blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles asked, reading the text he received from Scott.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane." Derek explained, exhaling heavily. "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?" Stiles inquired.

"'Cause I'm gonna die without it." Derek replied, raising his eyebrows at Stiles.

I gulped and looked back at Stiles, who also looked uncertain of what to do.

"Help me get him to the treatment room." I said, addressing Stiles who nodded in response.

We moved over to Derek and helped him to his feet, leading him to the treatment room while he leaned heavily on us, trying to keep himself upright.

Stiles flicked the light on and I closed the door as Derek let go of us and stumbled forward.

I gasped in surprise as I turned around to find a very shirtless Derek leaning against the metal table to keep himself upright.

Stiles whirled around to look at me, to see what was the cause of my alarm, and I turned red, averting my eyes downward and earning a confused look from him.

I looked over at Derek again, desperately trying to avoid the sight of his toned abs and focusing instead on his arm. The bullet hole was still very painfully present, with clusters of dark veins spread around throughout the length of his arm, which was still smeared red from blood. The whole thing was just sickening and disturbing.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles remarked, earning a glare from Derek as he covered the distance to the metal table, leaning over it, in the opposite side of Derek as I placed myself in their middle.

"When the infection reaches my heart, it will kill me." Derek replied, breathing with difficulty as he turned around to look for something in the cupboards. My attention was captured by his back, where he had a tattoo. It was a simple black tattoo, consisting of three interlocked spirals. A triskelion, yeah, that was its name.

"'Positivity' just isn't a word in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles questioned.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time..." Derek trailed off as he opened a drawer. "Last resort."

"Which is?" Stiles inquired as I looked at Derek with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, feeling the familiar dread creeping in.

Derek turned around, holding a bone saw and I felt completely sick to my stomach, probably turning as pale as Derek, if not more, as I fought the urge to vomit, realizing what he had in mind.

I looked at Derek, as if pleading that he didn't say it. Just, please, don't say it. If he did, it all became way to real, and I don't think I could handle that without at least fainting.

"You're gonna cut off my arm." Derek stated, giving voice to everyone's thoughts and outright ignoring my desperate mental pleas.

"I'm gonna be sick." I shakily informed them, covering my mouth with my hand as Stiles reacted by opening and closing his mouth, similarly to a goldfish.

Derek stumbled over to the metal table again, dumping the bone saw on it.

"I'm not gonna cut off your arm! Lex, you do it!" Stiles all but yelled, pushing the bone saw at me, making my eyes widen in terror.

"I am _not_ going to cut off an arm. I refuse! _Nope!_ N-E-V-E-R. No way in Lucifer's cage. Not a snowball's chance in hell!" I refused with a high-pitched voice, pushing the bone saw back at him.

"Well, I'm not gonna do it!" Stiles declared, pushing it back at me as I glowered at him.

"Neither a-" I started to shriek, pushing back the bone saw towards Stiles when I was interrupted by Derek's irritated voice.

"One of you do it! I don't care who." He growled out, glowering at both of us.

I sent Stiles a pleading look and he stared back at me for a minute before he cried out.

"Fine! Oh my _God!_ You owe me _so_ much!" Stiles caved in as he fearfully reached for the bone saw, making me sigh in relief.

"Thank you! Totally, whatever you want!" I hurriedly agreed, shaking my head furiously up and down.

"You owe me for the rest of _your_ _life!"_ He added, gulping as Derek reached for a blue rubber string, tying it as a tourniquet on his upper arm.

"Fine!" I agreed, my widened eyes jumping from the bone saw in Stiles' hands to Derek's arm.

Stiles tentatively flicked a switch in the bone saw and it roared to life, making me shriek from the scare.

"Oh my God!" Stiles cried out, turning it off and dumping it back on the metal table, making it clatter.

"What if you bleed to death?" Stiles inquired, holding out a hand as if to prove his point.

"It'll heal if it works." Derek said through gritted teeth that were currently holding the blue rubber string that he was wrapping around his arm.

"Ugh. Look... I don't know if I can do this." Stiles admitted, earning a pleading look from me and a glower from Derek.

"Why not?" Derek inquired, focusing on the tourniquet.

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone and specially the blood!" Stiles cried out, as Derek dropped his arm on the metal table and glared at Stiles.

"You faint at the side of blood?" Derek questioned.

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" Stiles replied.

"All right, fine." Derek relented and I looked up at him in curiosity. Did he have a plan that didn't include cutting his arm off? "How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." Oh... right, no.

"Okay, you know what? I'm _so_ not buying your threats any-" Stiles started saying but was interrupted by Derek, who grabbed him by his shirt.

I gasped in shock from Derek's sudden action, my jaw dropping and my eyes widening.

"All right, bought, sold. Totally, I'll do it. I'll do it." Stiles relented as Derek started to convulse. "What? What are you doing?" Stiles inquired as Derek leaned over the side of the table and vomited a black goo.

I felt my stomach turning in revulsion as I stared at the black goo on the floor.

"Holy God, what the hell was that?" Stiles whined, looking at the floor with a disgusted look on his face.

"It's my body..." Derek trailed off, speaking with difficulty. "Trying to heal itself."

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles replied, looking nauseous.

"I'm going to puke." I announce, holding my stomach as I averted my eyes from the floor.

"What?" Stiles inquired, alarmedly switching his gaze to me.

"I'm a sympathetic vomiter." I explained, feeling acid rising in my stomach.

"Oh my god, don't vomit!" Stiles ordered, looking even more nauseous.

"I can't control it!" I whined as I turned around, spotting a garbage can near the door and making a frantic run for it. I then proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach in said garbage can before retreating back to the metal table.

"Now! You gotta do it now!" Derek groaned out, raising his head to look at Stiles.

"Look, honestly, I don't think I can." Stiles replied, looking at the bone saw.

"Just do it!" Derek yelled out, startling me and Stiles who made a frantic grab towards the bone saw.

"Oh my God! Okay, okay." Stiles relented, pressing it against Derek's upper arm, just below the tourniquet.

I was looking at Derek's arm with widened eyes, feeling both horrified and terrified, incapable of looking away for some reason.

"Oh my god. All right, here we go!" Stiles cried out as I inhaled sharply and held my breath seeing Stiles hold up the saw as if in slow motion.

Then, I heard the voice of an 'angel'...

"Stiles? Lexie?" I heard Scott call out from the entrance and we all let out a collective sigh of massive relief.

"Scott?" Stiles inquired, staring at the door where Scott's form appeared, looking at the scene he encountered with a confused expression on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott yelled out, looking at us for an explanation.

"Scott McCall, you are my favorite person in the entire _freaking_ world!" I yelled out, all but running to Scott and giving him the biggest bear hug I could ever muster (it even surpassed the bear hug I gave Melissa McCall the other week).

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." Stiles replied, dropping the bone saw in the metal table in relief.

"Did you get it?" Derek inquired, staying in his spot, probably lacking the strength to push himself upright.

Scott fumbled with his pant pockets before pulling out a bullet and handing it to Derek, who was able to push himself up and stared at the bullet.

"What are you going to do with it?" Stiles questioned as Derek grew paler, if that was even possible.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." Derek trailed off as he started to sway in his feet and I realized in horror what was about to happen next.

I hurriedly moved over to his side so I could support him when he fainted as he dropped the bullet, lacking the strength to hold it up, which rolled off the table, clattering in the ground. Derek then fell backwards despite my best efforts, and took me down with him. I rolled off of him, noticing that Scott had dived in after the bullet trying to reach it.

Stiles crouched down by our side and tried to wake Derek up with no success.

"Derek, come one, wake up." Stiles said, tapping Derek in the face. "Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"I don't know!" Scott yelled out in reply, still trying to reach the bullet.

Only then did it occur to me that if Derek died in our watch, we were going to have to find a miraculous excuse for it, all the while avoiding the terms werewolf, hunter and alpha, not mention try to not give up Scott's identity to the hunters.

"I can't reach it." Scott groaned out.

"Is he dead?" I dreadfully whispered, looking down at Derek with.

"I don't know, he's not waking up!" Stiles cried out.

"All right, just hold on!" Scott replied.

"Stiles..." I trailed off, looking at him with trepidation creeping into my voice.

He let out a groan and looked back at Scott who was still sprawled out in the floor, reaching for the bullet.

"Oh! I got it, I got it!" Scott announced as I sighed in relief.

"Please don't kill me for this." Stiles all but begged as I looked at him with confusion that faded as soon when he raised his fist up, balling it. Then, everything seemed to move in slow motion as his fist slowly started the heavy descent towards Derek's unconscious face, diving in with a swift arch, before arriving at its intending target, landing noisily on Derek's lower left cheek. The older werewolf woke up with a start, looking disoriented for a few seconds, eyes darting around wildly as I breathed a sigh of relief.

Stiles started cursing, shaking his hand around and cradling it out of pain from punching Derek so hard and stood up, wincing.

"Give me..." Derek trailed off as Scott and I helped him up.

Derek leaned against the metal table again, holding up the bullet after Scott had handed it to him, as Stiles still complained about his wrist. He then bit the bullet, much to my confusion, and ripped off its cap, spitting it on the table. He then proceeded to pour the wolfsbane out of the bullet onto the table, before reaching for a lighter and setting it on fire. I backed away from the table in surprise as the ash started to lively spark, like one of those sparkler firework candles my mom used to put in my birthday cakes when I was little, before fading to a blue smoke.

Derek then gathered the burnt ash in his hands, sweeping it from the table, before breathing in heavily and shoving it into his open wound. My eyes widened in shock and my jaw dropped as he pushed a finger inside his wound and started spreading the ash around before howling in pain and collapsing on the ground.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shrieked, all but panting as my arms flailed around with what probably resembled hysteria _a lot_ and Scott cringed, gasping.

Derek remained in the ground, screaming his lungs out in pain and bucked his hips up at us as the painful looking dark veins on his arms started retreating back to open bullet wound, which promptly closed, emanating the same blue smoke.

"That...was... AWESOME!" Stiles exclaimed, pumping his fist up as I stared incredulously at him. "YES!"

"Are you okay?" Scott asked as Derek pushed himself up from the ground and I just stood there, with my jaw hanging open and nearly bulging eyes.

What. The Hell. In The Name Of Chuck. Just Happened?

"Well, except for the agonizing pain." Derek scoffed at Scott.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles remarked sarcastically and received a glare from Derek as I snapped my mouth shut.

"Okay, we saved your life. Which means you're gonna leave us alone! You got that?" Scott demanded, not looking very sure of himself, though. "And if you don't, I-I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, a-and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

"You're gonna trust them?" Derek questioned, interrupting Scott. "What? You think they can help you?"

"Well, why not?" Scott replied, shrugging his shoulders. "They're a lot freaking nicer than you are!"

"Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are." Derek scoffed, making Scott narrow his eyes with confusion.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked as Stiles and I looked inquisitively at Derek.

"C'mon. I'm going to show you something." He ordered as he turned around and walked out of the clinic.

We exchanged confused looks among ourselves and trailed after him. We walked over to the jeep and Scott grabbed his bike, putting in the backseat of the jeep from its back, before I climbed inside it, followed by Scott, and we tried to arrange ourselves some room with his bike. Derek took the front seat, since he was bigger and needed more leg room and Stiles got in the driver's seat, turning on the engine before looking at Derek expectantly.

"Drive to the 'Beacon's Crossing Home'." Derek simply commanded, glancing at Stiles for a second before averting his eyes back to the front.

"What?" Stiles questioned, his eyebrows narrowing in confusion as Scott and I looked at each other with similar expressions.

Derek's response was to glower at Stiles who shrunk in his seat, being threatened by Derek in one day more times than I could count with both my hands. Poor guy, I would hate to be on the receiving end of so many threats of having my throat sliced open, with his teeth. Cue shudder.

"Fine, fine. Okay, going..." Stiles trailed off as he pulled off the animal clinic. "No need to rip my throat out...with your teeth. But seriously, where is that?"

We remained silent for the following minutes as Derek gave Stiles directions and we passed by the woods. I stared out the window, contemplating the darkened (by the night) beauty of the undiscovered forest. I always loved to do that, though I had no idea what led to me to enjoy it in the first place. Maybe it was the poetic nature of the act itself, or maybe, somehow, deep inside, I subconsciously already knew I was predestined for all this supernatural crap and whatnot.

The trees passed by with haste, the leaves becoming blurry due to the speed we passed them by.

Everything was quieter at night, but that didn't imply safety. I guess it was actually the other way around, really. Night was _supposed_ to give you a false feeling of safety, the old: You can't see me if I can't see you. Unfortunately, life is rarely fair, and as such, that is seldom the case. After all, it was at night that all the predators came out to hunt down and eat their prey, they were _counting_ on that false feel of safety so they could catch you off guard. It was at night that death and tragedy struck, that life chose to fall apart. It was mostly always dark when your mind chose to reflect on the cruelness and evilness that surrounded you, happening all around, and condemned you for doing nothing. The weight of your own conscious crashing down on you.

I was brought out of my musings when the jeep came to a stop outside a building with a sign stating:' _Beacons Crossing Home. A long term care faculty'_.

"What are we doing here?" Scott asked as we struggled to get out of the car (task made difficult because of Scott's bike), but was ignored by Derek.

"You two, stay here." Derek ordered, looking at Stiles and me.

"What, why?" Stiles and I both asked at the same time, scowling at Derek who rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going in with three teenagers tagging along. That wouldn't be very inconspicuous now, would it?" Derek scoffed, grabbing Scott and pulling him along as we stayed behind, watching them disappear into the building.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Stiles grumbled, both of us growing impatient after a while.

I started switching my weight from one foot to the other, biting my nails. It was my tell, or so Stiles had told me nine years ago when the three of us had attempted a game of 'poker'. I apparently did that whenever I was anxious or impatient, like now, for instance.

My phone beeped with a text, startling me. I fumbled with my pockets, reaching for my phone to check the text. It was my mom, asking how much longer it would take before I came home. I replied, saying it shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes.

As soon as I stored my phone back in my jean's pocket, I spotted Derek walking towards us and Scott scrambling after him.

"Dude what happened?" Stiles inquired, addressing Scott.

"I..." Scott trailed off, looking uncertainly at Derek who glared at him. I looked at them with curiosity. What could Derek have shown Scott that left him speechless? "I'm going home." Scott announced, picking up his bike. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye." Stiles replied.

"Bye..." I trailed off, staring confusedly at Scott as he mounted his bike and took off.

I turned back around and looked up at Derek.

"Do you need a ride?" I tentatively asked.

"Oh, no way! I'm done playing chauffeur for the day." Stiles refused, shaking his head. "I ain't driving him around anymore!" He finished, earning a glare from me and a glower from Derek, who scoffed.

"Please. You assume I want to spend any more time than necessary around your annoying existence." Derek retorted. "I don't need a ride." He concluded, this time addressing me, before turning around and walking away into the dark woods.

"God, creeper much?" Stiles said, making a face as I smacked him in the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the back of his head. "You know, I'm the one driving you home. I could leave your sorry ass out here instead if you keep abusing me."

I rolled my eyes at his empty threat and glared at him.

"Please, we both know you would never do that. And when did you become so rude?" I inquired, scowling.

"Since I had to drive around a dying and profoundly aggravating werewolf that kept threatening to kill me, ALL DAY LONG!" He retorted as he headed to the jeep and I trailed after him.

I rolled my eyes and got in the front seat, fastening my seat belt.

After that, Stiles drove me home and I said goodbye to him before walking to my house's front porch, watching him drive away.

I fumbled for my house keys but after a minute of not finding them I concluded that I would have to empty all the contents of my backpack if I had any hope of seeing them again. Sighing in frustration I knocked and waited for someone to open the door.

A minute later the front door swung open, my mother appearing in front of me.

"Hi mom." I greeted, walking inside.

"Hi honey. Your dinner's in the fridge." She informed me, kissing the top of my head before walking off to the living room.

I headed for the kitchen, where a half sleeping, half awake Bacon lied in his doggy bed, drooling all over the place, and reached for the Tupperware containing my long cold dinner. I dumped it in a plate before stuffing it in the microwave, sitting in the kitchen stool as I stared at the pasta, currently spinning slowly inside the microwave, as if provoking my growling stomach.

Now I'm having dirty thoughts about pasta. I'm a weird person...

As soon as the timer turned to zero, I jumped out of the stool, scrambling to get the food and appease my starving stomach.

I started gulping it down and walked over to the living room, where my mother sat, working on some school related stuff.

I made a move a move for the couch but was stopped by my mother's instant reaction.

"Don't you even dare _think_ about eating in the couch, young Missy." She immediately said, not even raising her head up to look at me. Sometimes I swear she's a witch. Seriously, it freaks me out.

I groaned in protest and moved over to the table instead, sitting by her side.

I ate hurriedly in silence, watching my mother correct some worksheets.

After I finished eating, I wished her goodnight and retreated upstairs to my room.

I closed the blinds, which were left open since I was gone for most of the day, and walked over to my desk, turning on my laptop and logging on the video chat, joining Scott and Stiles.

They appeared in the computer screen, Scott taking the left side and Stiles the right.

"Hey." I greeted with a smile. "So what the hell happened at the care facility?" I inquired, looking at Scott.

"Derek showed me his uncle." Scott admitted.

"What?" I inquired, confused.

"He said that he was the only survivor of the Hale fire. Half his face was burned off." He replied as we both shuddered. "He also said the Argents set the fire."

"WHAT?" My jaw fell open and my eyes widened at that particular piece of information. "Allison is a psycho murderer?" She seemed so sweet!

"No, It wasn't Allison! I don't think she even know about werewolves." Scott informed us and I sighed in relief. One less hunter to worry about.

"Thank God. That would have been bad." Stiles commented.

"That would have been catastrophic." I added, nodding my head in agreement. "So, what about Derek?"

"What about him?" Stiles inquired, raising one eyebrow.

"Do we trust him?" I questioned, earning shocked looks from both of the guys.

"No!" They exclaimed at the same time, glaring at me.

If looks could kill, I think I would have been dead ten times over today.

"Why not? I thought we'd established that he didn't kill anyone." I replied, frowning in confusion.

"That doesn't mean you can trust him!" Stiles said, scowling. "Who says that he doesn't decide to start killing now?"

I rolled my eyes in response and glanced at my backpack, which had been hurled at the bed.

"I need to go. Chemistry homework to do." I sighed, resentfully looking at the books sitting on top of bed, next to the backpack.

"What? There's chemistry homework to do?" Scott asked with alarm, resembling a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yeah." I replied, amused. "I see how much studying you and Allison did."

Scott blushed and looked away embarrassed, earning a chuckle from me and a smirk from Stiles.

"That's my boy!" Stiles exclaimed with a smug grin, pumping his fist in the air.

"We didn't actually _do_ anything. We just made out for a bit." Scott explained, looking extremely embarrassed. "And then she aimed a compound bow at me."

"What?" Me and Stiles asked at the same time.

"I thought you said she wasn't a hunter!" Stiles exclaimed.

"She's not!" Scott promptly appeased us. "That's just what she's good at."

"She's got a natural born talent for archery?" I inquired, incredulously. "Now, no one can argue with the irony of that simple fact." I snorted.

"Trust me. The compound bow is not what worries me. Her house is like a freaking gun warehouse!" Scott added, making me raise my eyebrows. "She said her father sold fire arms to law enforcement..." Scott trailed off as we all shared knowing looks. We all knew where those guns were going and what they were being used for... and it had nothing to do with the police whatsoever.

"I really need to get going." I said, remembering the homework.

"Right, me too." Scott added.

We said goodbye and turned off the video chat.

I reached for my backpack, emptying it on the bed and scrambled with the contents, fortunately finding my house keys. I jumped onto the bed and hurriedly did the chemistry homework I had left.

Chemistry was by far my least favorite subject. I disliked the discipline and I hated the teacher. Seriously, I had a long term theory that Mr. Harris had a stick shoved so far up his ass that he was unaware of its presence. And that was the cause of his permanent bad mood.

Once I finished my homework I packed my school bag in a rush, antsy to retreat back to the comfiness of my bed covers.

I brushed my teeth and changed into my cupcake Pj's (good thing about pj's, no one ever sees them so you don't have to worry about looking ridiculous) and all but ran to bed, jumping inside the covers and snuggling with the pillows.

I didn't watch supernatural today (internal pout) but I was both emotionally and physically exhausted, so I'll have to reschedule it. Maybe tomorrow? Yeah...Definitely (yawn) tomorrow...

I clutched the covers tighter to my body (it was a rather chill night) and willed my body to drift off to sleep. Which shouldn't...take...long...

I felt my thoughts becoming more sluggish and completely rendered myself to sleep, embracing it as a certain dark brooding werewolf creeped his way into my dreams.

 **A/N: Chapter 4 is up! :D Like I said before, I'm sorry for making you wait so long and as always feel free to share your opinion and comment on the story and whatnot.**

 **Don't forget to review and I'll see you next time ;D**

 **Beijocas da Martocas! xoxo**


	5. The Tell

**Cry me a river - Chapter 5: The tell**

 **A/N: Hi! So, here's another update, hope you enjoy it! Wish you the happiest of times reading! ;D**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own teen wolf or anything else you recognize except for my OCs.**

* * *

I woke up with a start as my alarm clock ringed loudly in my years and I rolled in bed, protesting against the rude awakening. I covered my ears with my fluffy pillow, trying to zone out the deafening noise. I knew it was only impossibly loud for as long as I was trying to sleep, but who the hell can get out of bed with the first ring of the clock? I know I sure didn't, and so, I let it keep on ringing for about five more minutes.

When I was awake enough I sat up in bed, still dizzy with sleep, groaning as I turned the alarm off.

I threw the covers off me and got out of bed, shivering from the sudden rush of cold that came over me due to leaving the warm nest I had built around me with my pillows and bed covers. I had always been one to exaggerate on the number of stuffed animals and things of the sort I possessed. By the time I was nine, I had a collection of thirty eight that I kept in my closet. I had to make room for clothes after that, though, so my mom forced me to give up more than half of them. I still remember the day, I cried for the most of its duration and threw a fit that lasted a week and had my parents pulling their hairs out.

Now I basically created a fort of pillows around me when I slept, planting myself in the middle. What can I say, I'm a snuggler.

I sleepily stumbled over to my closet, opening it and stealing a glance at Mr. moose, a _very_ original name for a very cute stuffed moose Scott offered me on my sixth birthday. He was resting on top of the chest of drawers by my bed, next to Shaggy (stuffed brown dog) and Nutty (stuffed otter). Those last two I had won in the local bowling alley at a birthday party when I was eight, and they were just too cute to give up. The rest were just a tad too childish, so I had stuffed them inside a cardboard box and stored them in the garage, out of my parents sight so they wouldn't get any ideas (just 'cause I didn't want them in my room didn't mean I wanted to get rid of them).

I scanned through my closet to chose my clothes for the day, my eyes wandering up and down. I wasn't very choosy, I usually just threw on the first thing I could put my hands on actually, but today was one of those days...

I remembered a shirt I had lost during the course of the last week. I wouldn't mind wearing it today but the damn thing was nowhere to be found! I had been ransacking the house like crazy for an entire week and still I came up with nothing. Which was weird, because it was in my closet and then... not. Clothes don't just disappear like that, unless they're ruined by your little brother who then proceeded to hide it. But he was exonerated when I conducted a thorough search of the trash for any ripped shirts and looked in all of his hiding places (I knew him too well for him to actually be able to hide something from me). I had seriously looked _everywhere_. The shirt was one of my favorites, it was a simple loose basic white t-shirt with a quote that said: 'I speak fluent sarcasm'. Stiles had offered it to me on my fourteenth birthday and I wore it too this day (it still fit me 'cause I didn't really grow that much ever since I turned thirteen and the shirt was loose anyway).

I had thrown a fit and recruited the help of my little brother and even my mother. However, not even our combined efforts were enough to find the damn thing.

I mourned over the loss of my poor t-shirt, which I'd probably never see again, as I picked out a white blouse, black skinny jeans and put on my classic black all stars. I was going old-fashioned black and white today.

Everything passed by in a similar fashion to the other mornings. I got dressed and went to the bathroom where I brushed the knots made by sleep out of my golden hair, and then I proceeded to go downstairs and walk over to the kitchen where I sat on a stool, greeting my mom and brother before having breakfast, which consisted of two toasts and a glass of milk.

I had already gotten used to the monotonous rhythm of the school year, the next summer holidays were light-years away and it felt like the last had happened in another lifetime. The long carefree days and wasted afternoons were nothing but a memory now, a recollection of something that was in past and never to be lived again, since no moment could be lived twice according to the scientific community. What a bunch of buzzkills.

Soon after I'd finished breakfast, I was rushing outside to the blue jeep Stiles held so much affection for. It was ridiculous really, the way he treated that jeep. It was like Dean and his baby! Boys and their cars...

I have never really been a big fan of cars, my knowledge was pretty much limited to the big brands and Chevy Impala's from 1967.

I entered the black and blue jeep, jumping into the front seat and fastening my seat belt before dumping my backpack in the backseat and turning to look at Stiles.

"Morning." I said, Stiles greeting me back as he pulled off of my house.

I looked at him and took in his appearance. He was wearing one of his usual shirts with an unbuttoned dress shirt over it, which complemented the look he usually went for, and blue jeans. I looked up at his face, noting the way his light brown eyes glinted in the sunlight before noticing his watch was reflecting sunrays on the roof of the jeep, the little bright light dancing around in random patterns as Stiles moved his hand around. He had one hand resting on the steering wheel, occasionally tapping his fingers against it, and another on the gear stick, and he was sitting in a relaxed position that was so Stiles-characteristic, I couldn't help but smile a little at the familiar sight.

I regarded his buzz cut hair, recalling the time when he'd worn it longer as a child. I'd looked through some childhood photos the other day, when I was feeling a bit nostalgic, and couldn't help but notice that he was such a cute kid. And so was Scott! All kids are cute, really! Except the creepy ones... Those are just really... _creepy._

The morning light shined through the left side window of the jeep, illuminating half of Stiles' face and giving it a sort of a celestial glow. I contemplated his babyish features as he scrunched up his slightly upturned nose in distaste at something going on outside the vehicle before he suddenly whirled his head around and met my eyes.

"What?" He inquired, bringing me out my musings as I sent him a confused look.

"What what?" I questioned with bewilderment, not understanding what he was referring to as he raised his eyebrows at me.

"You were staring." He clarified, giving me a curious look.

"No, I wasn't." I replied, averting my eyes to the car window. I hadn't even realized I'd been staring for so long.

Awesome Lexie! Way to make things awkward!

"Why are you acting so weird?" He insisted. "What, do I have something on my face?" He questioned as he angled the rearview mirror to check his face.

"No, you don't." I quickly responded, suddenly finding the scenery quite interesting and fascinating. "And I wasn't staring." I added, mumbling.

"Okay..." He said, dragging the 'a' on longer than necessary to demonstrate his skepticism. "Moving on, there was a murder last night." Stiles informed me, making a right turn.

"What?" I shrieked, instantly forgetting all about the awkwardness as I turned around to look at him with shocked wide eyes. "Who? Why?"

"It was an employee at that movie store, the one with the star logo. I was out last night, eating dinner with my dad in the patrol car and we went to that new burger place that opened last month, you know? And then he got the curly fries, even though the doctor _specifically_ told him _n_ o fries, _especially_ not the curly ones, but like _always_ , he didn't listen and he got them anyway. Didn't do him much good, though, 'cause I-"

"Stiles?" I stopped his rambling, giving him an amused look. "Point, please?"

"Right. They called in a 187, which is police code for murder." He added as I rolled my eyes. As if by spending the most part of my childhood and almost every waking moment with him I didn't already know what the police codes meant. When he was old enough to count, they were all he could take about! So of course Scott and I knew what _every single_ code meant. "They still don't know who slash what the murderer is, but they've got Lydia and Jackson as witnesses since they were there when it happened."

"Seriously?" I inquired, looking at him with surprise.

"Yeah." He replied. "They're fine, though. Unscathed."

"Was it..." I trailed off, scavenging my mind for an adequate way to put into words what I was trying to ask. "Supernatural related?" I inquired.

"I don't know, I'm gonna talk to Scott about it. Maybe he knows something." Stiles suggested, making me nod in agreement.

"Yeah. Let's do that." I replied as Stiles made a left turn. "He's the werewolf after all. He could tell us if his wolfy senses are tingling." He shot me an amused look before focusing back on the road.

He drove for a few more minutes as I tried to get some extra shuteye in the car seat. You know that moment when you're still tired as hell and you just want to go back to sleep, but the day has already started and you're supposed to be up and awake in the next ten minutes? Yeah, I hate those times.

About four minutes later we arrived at school and I sat up straight in my seat, trying to shake off the remains of sleep as Stiles killed the engine and exited the jeep. I reached for my backpack, which was still lying on the backseat, before exiting the jeep and trailing after him as we headed inside the building.

We walked through the halls as the school started to fill with students starting their morning routines. After a while we reached our lockers and I opened mine, grabbing my english books and storing the ones I didn't need inside before heading to class with Stiles.

We walked over to the classroom as the bell rang, marking the official beginning of the school day. The room was still half empty, so we sat down in the back of the room, me picking the desk to Stiles' right as our English teacher prepared his books and notes for the class.

The teacher made his way to the black board and started writing some notes about today's class as I reached in my backpack, taking out my notebook and pencil case so I could copy the information from the board. More people started entering the classroom and I looked up at the door, growing more confused by the second because of the absence of someone who should be among the ones walking inside.

"Hey, Stiles." I whisper yelled, trying to get his attention. He whirled his head around as a involuntary reaction of hearing his name and his eyes landed on me. "Have you spoken to Scott? Is he okay?"

"I texted him but he hasn't replied yet." He said, shaking his head.

"Weird." I commented as I swept my eyes over the room again. Then I noticed something, another vacant desk. "Allison is missing too." I realized, turning to look at Stiles who proceeded to search the classroom for said person.

"You're right." He agreed. "I'll text him again."

I nodded, averting my eyes back to the teacher who had just ordered us to open our books on page twenty four. I internally groaned, fishing my backpack for the book as I finally had to kiss goodbye the idea of sleep and officially switch into school mode.

I grabbed my book, opening it on the intending page before shooting Stiles another inquiring look.

He mouthed ' _nothing'_ and I sighed with frustration at our best friend and his lack of communication with us. It wasn't like Scott to outright ignore us. He would only do that if something really bad was going on, so my mind is automatically jumping to horrible conclusions that I really didn't want to think about and I could't even pay a a single bit of attention to the class. I was literally itching for the bell to ring so I could hunt Scott down and kick his ass him for making me worry.

I had zoned out and I didn't even realize the teacher addressed me until every head in the room whirled around simultaneously to look at me. I shrunk in my seat, feeling blood rushing to cheeks as I asked him to repeat the question.

He berated me for not paying attention to his class and I put him in a compartmentalized section of my mind where I stored all the negative points of my life and things I hated, since I couldn't do much else without getting detention or being suspended. I really didn't want to discover how my parents would react to that outcome, so I took the logic way out and nodded my head, mumbling under my breath something along the lines of 'I'm sorry'.

The english class then proceeded, the teacher going on and on about grammar, syntax and whatnot as I internally burned him at the stake and stared daggers at his back when he turned around to write something on the board.

* * *

I was sitting next to Stiles in Chemistry class as I nervously shook my right leg and bit my nails.

We still had no word from Scott and I was starting to panic about his intriguing and inexplicable disappearance. All the bad scenarios I pictured in my head were getting a thousand times worse (I didn't even know that was possible) and all kinds of horrible theories were coming up to me. What if Allison found out about Scott's status quo and her family armed themselves to the teeth to chase after and eviscerate him? What if he couldn't control himself and hurt Allison? What if it he hurt his _mother_? Argh!

I'm going _crazy_ over here!

"Stop shaking your leg! You're making me nervous!" Stiles whined with the cap of his marker in his mouth and I stilled my leg, biting my nails with a renewed sense of worry and nervousness. "And you're shaking the table, I can't highlight! How is that even possible? These things are like, screwed to the ground."

"Has he texted you back yet?" I inquired, shooting him a hopeful look as he looked up at me from the book he was trying to highlight, the lines he'd previously underlined all blurry.

"No." He mumbled with the marker's cap still in his mouth.

"Just a friendly reminder." Mr. Harris said from the back of class and I tore my eyes away from Stiles to look at him in surprise. I hadn't even notice him going over there. Sneaky one, he was. "Parent-teacher conferences are tonight." He informed the class as a guy in the front row (whose name I didn't know, sorry nameless guy! He must be new in this class) cringed. "Student's below a C average are required to attend. I won't name you because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment. Has anyone seen Scott McCall?" Harris asked as he stopped by our table and I looked down averting my eyes from him. He already knew who Scott's 'associates' were (obviously), and was undoubtedly speaking to us under the misguided sense of addressing the whole class. Damn sneaky bastard always scheming sneaky plans. Stiles did the opposite as me, though, and looked up from his book at the devil himself. Before Harris could start picking on us, though, the door to the classroom swung open and I whirled my head around, similarly to the other students (and Harris), to see who was entering the classroom (who would dare arrive tardy to Adrian Harris' class?).

However, it was Jackson that walked in, sitting in a free table, three rows from the front, before dumping his backpack on the other stool as Mr. Harris made his way towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder in a soothing way and telling him something. Jackson nodded in response and Harris patted his shoulder before walking over to the front of the classroom. Weird. Harris was never touchy feely, surely the flying pigs are going to start coming through the door any minute now.

I waited a few seconds, but much to my dismay, there was no sighting of hovering swine and I attributed this miracle to a secluded one time event, burying my head in my hands as I counted down the seconds for the class to be over. Pity, it had only started fifteen minutes ago...

"Everyone, start reading chapter nine." Mr. Harris said as he stopped in his tracks in the front of the classroom, not turning around, though. Oh no, I sense a childish and stupid remark coming, probably aimed at Stiles since I had done absolutely nothing to earn Harris' attention (then again, simply existing was reason enough for Harris to pick on you if your last name was Stilinski or if you associated with someone that possessed that given name on a daily-basis) "Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's chemistry, not a coloring book."

Stiles spit the cap of the marker into the air, catching it with his left hand and screwing it on as the class snickered and I gave Harris' back the stink eye. _Assbutt._

I turned the page I was on, reaching chapter nine and started reading the introduction when Stiles leaned forward in his seat, moving towards Danny. I looked up from the book, momentarily forgetting the task at hand to see what Stiles was currently attempting to do.

"Hey, Danny." Stiles said, getting the goalie's attention. "Can I ask you a question?"

"No." Danny simply replied, trying to ignore Stiles as he focused back on his book.

"Well, I'm going to anyway." Stiles added as I stifled a laugh. "Hum, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?"

Danny remained quiet, sighing as he looked at Mr. Harris. "No." He responded after a while.

Stiles stayed silent for a few seconds, absorbing the new found information and looked back at Danny after a while. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Answer's still no." Danny replied but I knew he would answer anyway. It was Danny after all, the sweet and caring guy that you just couldn't muster up the strength to hate. It was like hitting a puppy, who didn't like Danny? He was the exact opposite of Jackson, so much so that I frequently wondered how in the world they could be best friends.

"Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night?" Stiles inquired, not missing a beat.

"He wouldn't... tell me." Danny responded, sounding frustrated as he looked down. I sent him a sympathetic look, one he didn't receive, anyway, since he had his back to us, but I felt bad for him. I imagine it can only hurt when you're being shut out by your best friend.

"But... he's your best friend." Stiles said, looking at him with a confused expression as I smacked him in the arm.

"Ow!" He whined, narrowing his eyes at me in an accusing way. What an idiot, can't he see Danny feels bad enough as it is? The poor guy remained quiet and Stiles inched forward in his stool, almost hovering over Danny.

"One more question." Stiles added as I rolled my eyes at him.

"What?" Danny snapped, looking at Stiles from the corner of his eyes.

"Do you find me attractive?" Stiles questioned and I couldn't help but snicker, recalling the day not long ago when he'd asked Scott if he was attractive to gay guys. Had he been hanging on that question ever since? He leaned even forward in his seat, with his mouth agape as I stifled my laughter. Then, he lost balance and fell from the stool, which fell to the ground, clattering as he jumped to his feet.

He awkwardly picked his stool up and sat down again as I was trying, and failing, to contain my laughter.

"Mr. Stilinski and Ms. Rivers, should I send you back to elementary school? You know, where you learn to _read_? Which is what you should be doing right now." Mr. Harris scolded us and I immediately sobered up, turning my attention towards my open Chemistry book in a similar fashion to Stiles.

The Chemistry class then proceeded as usual, with the usual scold from Mr. Harris to Stiles and me and plenty of sarcastic remarks.

* * *

Chemistry class was long over now and I wouldn't be seeing Mr. Harris for the rest of the day now (thank god!) as I walked through the school's hallways, heading for my locker.

We had just finished PE and as I reached the hall where the the boy's locker room was located, I noticed its door was ajar. My phone chimed and I fumbled with my pockets for it. I had it in my hand when suddenly, I bumped into a wall, face first. Because I am me, I lost balance and was about to fall with my butt on the floor when said wall grabbed my arm and steadied me. Weird, I've never seen a wall do that before.

I looked up and realized the reason I wasn't currently sprawled out on the floor was because the wall I bumped to was actually a living, breathing and very hot person. Whose name was Derek.

I blushed and looked down at my arm, which was still being grabbed by the brooding werewolf. I looked up at him again, realizing he was looking down at the ground at something and so I followed his stare, discovering the thing he was staring at was actually my phone, which was resting in pieces on the ground. _Shit!_ My eyes widened as I took in my wrecked device that had fallen when I'd bumped into Derek and probably been stomped on by the guy who was currently hurrying down the hall. _Asshole._

"Damn it!" I cursed as Derek relinquished his hold on me so I could crouch down and pick up the most important pieces of the phone.

"You should really watch where you step." Derek said and I incredulously looked up at him as my jaw dropped. Oh, he did _not_ just say that!

"Excuse me! _You_ bumped into _me_!" I replied, standing up and staring daggers at him.

"You were the one looking down." He deadpanned, raising one eyebrow.

"What are you even _doing_ here? Do you have difficulty grasping the concept of high school? Only students and teachers are supposed to be in here... and lunch ladies. But I don't see you wearing a hair net! Did you lose it?" I raised my eyebrows at him, smirking as I felt satisfied with my comeback.

He glared at me and turned around before walking away. I was left with the sight of his retreating back as I frustratingly put the wrecked phone inside my backpack.

I then proceeded the walk back to my locker, where I picked up my history books and stuffed the others I didn't need anymore inside it. I then shut the locker door and Stiles appeared behind it, making me jump back in surprise.

"Where have you been?" He demanded to know. "I've called you like three times!"

"I bumped into Derek and my phone did most of the falling." I explained, clenching my jaw as I thought about the infuriating moody werewolf.

"He broke your phone?" Stiles inquired, frowning.

"Well, kind off. We bumped into each other, the phone fell and some guy stomped on it. Now it's wrecked and I'm officially unable to communicate with the outside world. Long story short, I'm going to die hopeless and alone." I whined as I started walking towards our next class (history) with Stiles trailing after me.

"Or you could just get a new phone." Stiles suggested, smirking.

"Yeah, that works too." I replied, grinning back at him. "So, what did you want to talk to me about, anyway?"

"Oh! I talked to Scott." He replied, making me turn immediately to look at him.

"What did he say? Is he okay? Where is he?" I questioned, staring at him.

"He's with Allison. So I bet he's _better_ than fine _._ " He explained as I sighed in relief. "I told him he had to look into the guy that was murdered last might and he said he'd do it later. But getting back to the topic. Why was Derek here?"

"How am I supposed to know? You think he tells me anything?" I replied, raising my eyebrows at him with amusement.

"So he didn't say why he was here?" Stiles questioned, trying to get a concrete answer out of me.

"No." I responded, annoyance creeping into my voice. "I asked but he didn't answer. I may or may not have made a comment about him being a lunch lady that pissed him off." I added, smirking.

"Nice!" Stiles praised me and we fist bumped before walking into class, where Mr. Westover sat at the teacher's desk, removing his books from his suitcase.

We took sits next to each other and Mr. Westover soon started his class, which was, like always, a load of fun! Note the sarcasm, please.

The class passed by excruciatingly slowly, the clock pointer taking forever to mark even a minute. I knew not paying attention in class would come back and bite me in the ass later, but I really just couldn't bring myself to understand the random notes Mr. Westover decided to write on the black board during his unusual bursts of inspiration. He had probably taken one too many coffees before coming to teach this class. I had seriously never seen him this energetic before. He usually just stuck to sarcasm and pointless ironic remarks rather than actually using the black board for more than one quote and telling historical tales.

I really couldn't will myself to listen to them, though, as I kept zoning out and thinking about a certain werewolf who seemed to literally jump at every opportunity he had to crawl under my skin.

As I was absorbed in my thoughts, I could feel the seconds ticking by, unmercifully and relentlessly, relishing in my misery (and the other students).

Finally, though, came the much needed and longer-for end of class. I had stuffed all my things inside my backpack early when I noticed it would be ringing any minute. I knew teachers hated that, but I couldn't care less (Not that Mr. Westover didn't get pissed. Trust me, he _did._ But because I was currently living on of those days in which you don't really have the patience to follow anyone's orders) and I was sitting in the back, so, the hell with it!

The bell rang, signaling that we were free for the rest of the day and I all but jumped from my seat, practically running towards the door.

Much to my frustration, though, I had to stand by the door and wait for Stiles, as the rushing students got out of the classroom, growing impatient when he was one of the last to leave.

"What took you so long?" I whined as we headed to the jeep.

"I needed to pack my stuff!" He replied, fumbling with his backpack for his car keys.

I rolled my eyes as we got inside the jeep and he started the engine, pulling out of school.

"So have you heard from Scott since he told you he'd look into the murder?" I inquired, turning my head slightly so I could look at him.

"Nah, he hasn't reported back yet." He replied. "He's probably still with Allison." He grumbled that last part out.

"I just hope he doesn't forget the parent-teacher conference. The one he's supposed to _attend._ " I mumbled, staring out the window and noticing that Stiles had made a turn into a street we didn't usually drove by.

I sent him and inquiring look, feeling confused as to where we were going.

"I need to make a stop. Do you mind?" He asked, taking his eyes off the road to look at me momentarily.

"No, it's fine. Go ahead." I replied, looking at him with confusion. "But where are we going?"

"To talk to Lydia." He responded, averting his eyes back to the road.

"What?" I inquired, my voice a note too high due to being caught off guard as I fully turned my head around to look at him in with surprise. "Why are we going to Lydia's house? We never even talk to her."

"We need to know what she saw last night!" He defended himself, keeping one hand on the wheel as he used the other to gesture in a very Stiles-like manner.

"Right." I scoffed. "So this has nothing to do with your everlasting crush on her? You know we could have just talked to Jackson instead. Since he was there _too_ , remember?"

"Like he would even talk to us about it." Stiles replied, making another turn, presumably into Lydia's street.

"And you think Lydia's going to be a Chatty Cathy?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows at him.

"She sure is worth more of a try than Jackson!" He refuted, parking his car.

"Yeah, well I'm staying in the car." I announced, crossing my arms as I sulked in silence.

"Fine!" He huffed and killed the engine with frustration before exiting the jeep and all but running to the front door.

I scoffed at his demonstration of eagerness to talk to the school's queen bee and reached for my backpack to remove my phone before remembering that I no longer owned one. Not a working one, anyway.

I groaned again in irritation, this time more audibly, and leaned back against the seat, sighing with frustration.

I looked back at the house where Stiles eagerly stood by as the door swung open and Lydia's mother appeared behind it. I watched from my seat as she smiled and said something imperceptible to me before moving away from the door and gesturing Stiles in. They both disappeared inside the house, the door closing behind them as I remained in my spot, wondering what was going on behind those white walls.

I could do nothing but wait, though, as the minutes ticked by, slowly, and slowly, and slowly...

I was contemplating exiting the car and going up to the house, just to check if Lydia hadn't eaten Stiles alive like the maneater she really was. Just as I was gathering up the courage to march up to the redhead's house with some solid determination, the front door swung open and a frantic looking Stiles exited the house, all but racing towards the jeep.

I let out a sigh of relief due to longer having to walk right into the lion's den willingly as Stiles hurried inside the jeep, closing the door with haste.

He reached into his pockets for something and took out a phone.

"Where did you get that?" I inquired sending him a confused look.

"It's Lydia's." He replied, making my jaw drop as I looked at him with surprise.

"You stole her phone? Stalker much?" I said, raising my eyebrows at him. Not that I didn't commend that course of action, but I just didn't think Stiles would do that, not for the same reasons I would, anyway.

"No! I didn't steal her phone, I j-" He defended himself.

"Is that not her phone in your hand?" I inquired, interrupting him.

"Yes, bu-" He started to explain but was cut off short by me again.

"Then I think that falls under the definition for 'steal'." I added, giving him a skeptic look.

"That's not the point!" He snapped, flailing his arms arms around.

"Then what is?" I asked as he searched through the phone for something.

"She taped it."He announced, looking at me as if expecting a drastic reaction.

"Huh?" I questioned, giving him a confused look as I tried to make sense of what he'd told me. Taped... what? Did he found a sex tape or something?

"She taped the alpha!" He exclaimed, his hands waving around frantically. Oh God, I have a dirty mind...

"She what?" I shrieked, sending him a shocked look. There was some actual solid evidence on the alpha now? That was the best new's we've had in a long freaking while! Except for the fact, you know, we couldn't share it with anyone..."Can you see who it is? Did she show it to the cops?"

"No, you can't tell _what_ it is, much less who. Seriously, it's more animal than human, and it moved so fast, most of the frames of him are blurred." He replied showing me the video, where a bear like figure could be seen jumping out of the movie store, unfazed by the broken glass as he ran on all fours. Its face was hardly seeable, only a smudge of grey and black. You could make out its defining features, though, its fur looked pitch-black in the night and its face was grayish with two glowing red dots, standing for his eyes.

"Oh my God." I said, my voice dragging a bit from the daze. "Why do you think it killed the employee and let Jackson live? Was it after him specifically, do you know who he is?" I inquired, feeling suddenly drained, which was reflected in my voice.

"No, I need to sneak a peek into my dad's files. And we need to fill Scott in on this." Stiles replied, putting the phone away as he turned on the engine.

"Yeah, let's hope he has some useful information that'll help us crack this." I agreed, settling in my seat as Stiles pulled off Lydia's house and headed to mine.

* * *

I was almost crawling up the walls as I sat in my room, trying to come up with theories or ways to fix everything that was suddenly so far from alright (and failing miserably). How did things even get this messed up? Less than a month ago, we were just ordinary teens, worrying about the small things in life like getting a zit or a bad grade in chemistry. Now, our efforts were combined into the attempt of not getting killed, all the while trying not to have too many innocent lives lost in the crossfire. Everything was truly taking a turn for the worst.

I'd already finished my homework for the day and packed my backpack, now I was just sitting in my bed, not doing anything. The feeling of being caged and smothered was driving me crazy, making me desperate for some fresh air. I was an outdoorswoman, and being locked inside four walls almost every moment of every waking day was surely in no way beneficial to my mental (not to mention physical) health. It would most likely put me on the fast track to insanity, actually.

Stiles had dropped me off about half an hour ago, after the whole Lydia ordeal, and I was now home alone with no company but Bacon, until my mother and brother arrived from Beacon elementary, which usually didn't happen for about more... 2 hours. Yup. This sucks.

Sitting around and doing nothing but watch as the events unfolded before my eyes was _not_ what I wanted to or should be doing. I should be helping in every way I could, but being closed up inside my house was definitely not aiding my thinking process.

I groaned and lifted myself off the bed, walking over to my window. I rolled up the blinds and opened it, leaning outside as I rested my arms on the windowsill.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the delighted chirps of the birds that inhabited the woods, which my room faced. I breathed in, smelling the musky earthy scent from the damp soil and old leaves combined, that aroma that relaxed every nerve in my body and made me feel refreshed and reinvigorated.

I backed away from the window, closing it as I decided that I couldn't take it anymore and sped out of my bedroom, stopping by the entrance to grab my house keys and sprinted outside. The time I took to meditate on myself and my surroundings was crucial to me, and I only felt relaxed enough to do it when I went to my stream. Being deprived of it for so long was proving to be unbearable to me, so I had its route in my mind as I took off, jogging towards the woods and lost myself in the blissful harmony and peacefulness that could only be characteristic of it.

I wasn't supposed to go to the stream, my mother had specified that in the terms of my grounding, but seeing as I only had one week before completing the entire month she enforced, I figured she wouldn't be so upset if I took a walk to clear my head (not to mention that if I wanted to pick a time to sneak out, it should probably be now that my parents don't yet know about my wrecked phone. They'll definitely reinforce the terms of my grounding after that). Not like there was a psycho killer on the loose like she thought, anyway, just a rabid werewolf...

I cleared my head of any pessimistic thoughts as I jogged through the trees, their leaves green and shiny as they swayed slightly in the summer breeze.

After about three more minutes of jogging, I arrived at my stream, much to my satisfaction. I sighed in sheer contentment and lied down on the hammock, feeling truly carefree for most likely the first time in about a month.

I laid for a few seconds that stretched into minutes that went by faster than I thought and before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep.

However, I woke up sooner than I thought, feeling disoriented at first when I opened my eyes and saw shades of green with spots of darkened blue, a sight which was much different from my bedroom ceiling. It took me a minute to remember where I was, and when I did, I noticed it was getting dark. I sat up in the hammock and looked around as I tried to determine what had woken me up. Then, I heard noise from something or someone crunching leaves, the sound originating from my left, far away enough that I couldn't see what it was. I jumped up to my feet, feeling the adrenaline kicking in as I examined my surroundings for anything that could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, though, luck was not on my side as the ground was bare of any sticks or rocks big or sharp enough to defend myself against an impending attack.

Currently, the only two options presented before me by biology itself, were fight or flight. However, none of them worked in my favor. If I decided to stay and fight what/who was after me, it would be certain death, since I had little to no knowledge of the concept 'to fight' (it never really was a necessity for me until now. Like most normal people, you know?) and therefore, would get my ass kicked. If I chose to run, it wouldn't get me very far, since my ungainliness would prevent me from getting away (I would trip with one hundred percent certainty) and whatever chased after me was probably a thousand times faster than I was. So, truly, I had no way out of this. What do you do when the laws of biology screw you over? You take the third way out, that's what you do.

I tried to creep silently (probably failing miserably, considering how clumsy I am) towards the crunching leaves noise, to assess the immediate danger and determine exactly how screwed I was.

I went further into the woods so I could discover its source but stopped dead in my tracks, my stomach dropping as I held my breath and tried to listen for the sound of what I clearly identified as footsteps now. They had stopped. That could only mean one of two things: either the person or _thing_ that had been circling the woods was onto me and I was about to be brutally and tragically murdered, or I was hearing things and outright loosing my mind. None of the presented scenarios was preferable to the other.

I whirled my head around, trying to remain as quiet as a mouse as I inspected the woods, attempting to catch sight of what was out here with me. I stood still in my spot, feeling my heart thumping in my chest. It was like one of those nightmares everyone had as a kid, move one muscle, and you were monster's chow. My instincts screamed that if I remained very still, maybe it'd go away. However, my mind knew that not to be the case, as this resembled more the feeling you had when looking at a preying cat, you could _sense_ the moment in which it would attack. Its eyes would grow impossibly large and its pupils would dilate, then it would remain completely still, scrutinizing their prey and _playing_ with it before finally pouncing on it.

It was _playing_ me. I realized with terror as my eyed widened further in fright. I now had this knowledge, but it was worth nothing to me, it was utterly worthless, because what good did it do to you to know something bad was about to happen when you had no means of preventing it? I guess I would've been better off if I hadn't had access to that piece of information (they _do_ say ignorance is bliss... Now I get where they're coming from).

Then, I felt it, a shift in the air. I knew this was the moment as I heard a howl and my breath hitched in my throat as I whirled around and came across _it._

It was so much bigger when you saw it in person, the video on Lydia's phone did not do it justice.

The werewolf (if you could call it that) was about thirty feet away from me, by a fallen tree trunk, which had fallen a long time ago, judging by the amount of fungus around it. The monstrous creature was standing on its two hind legs as it _roared_ at me, its mouth replete with thick and pointy teeth and two very intimidating razor-sharp canines protruding from the sides. I studied it in terror, taking in the fear-inducing ink-black color of its fur, its sickly somber skin, which was a rotten shade of grey, like decaying skin. The worst of it all, though, were its eyes, flaming blood red so feral and demented the sight of them was sickening all on its own. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Not even in the typical monster movies Stiles forced us to watch on friday afternoon's did they ever come close to depicting something as monstrous as this.

I was rooted to the spot as the enormous monster dropped to all fours, making the ground shake and sending little particles of dirt dancing into the air.

Everything had suddenly stopped, the alpha's display of dominance had scared every living thing away. The birds had stopped chirping, the wind no longer blew and the forest itself was deathly quiet, as if fearing the deranged creature that outranked man and claimed the top of the food chain beyond shadow of doubt. It started advancing towards me in a frightening fast rhythm, resembling a lion in the way it moved, first the two front legs, and then the hind ones, in a hypnotic pace.

I squinted my eyes shut and took in a deep breath, clenching my fists at my sides as I heard the steady thumps of its heavy paws hitting the ground, the sound gradually escalating as he came closer each millisecond.

Then, I was harshly slammed into, but not from the direction I was expecting it from. I was pushed by my right side, not the front, which was where the alpha was headed. I was literally flung into the air and landed on my back a good six feet away from where I was previously standing. I lied in the floor as my back stung with pain due to forcefully being slammed into the ground, and waited until it subsided to a dull ache before concentrating back on what was happening.

I wasn't dead yet, so that was good. But someone had taken my place, pushed me away and faced the alpha himself/herself.

I lifted my head curiously, my mind overflowing with shock as I saw a shirtless Derek fighting off the savage monstrous werewolf, appearing to be struggling with holding his own. They were clawing at each other and I could see Derek was already injured in his upper right arm and had a deep gash in the left side of his lower waist. My eyes widened in terror as I hurriedly stood up, clutching my back when it stung painfully.

I looked back at Derek who appeared to have landed a good blow on the alpha, igniting a spark of hope in me. Maybe we'd get out of this alive, after all. That spark was crudely stomped out when the alpha roared in anger and slammed into Derek, tossing him through the air like he was weighed less than a pillow. I gulped and looked to the alpha, who was now turning around to stare back at me. He started moving towards me again but was cut off short by Derek who'd gotten up in the meantime, much to my relief. He slashed his claws through the alpha's face, who hauled in pain and stumbled backwards a bit.

I looked in shook at the blood pouring from the open gash wounds like water rushing from a fountain. I couldn't will my eyes to look away so I just stared at it feeling more nauseous by the second.

Derek seized that moment to break into a run, heading towards before grabbing my arm and pulling me along. I tried to keep up with him with great difficulty, as he sped past all the trees whilst holding a death grip on my arm. I could still hear the infuriated growls of the alpha, but much to my relief, the sound was growing more and more distant, which meant he wasn't chasing after us anymore, probably more preoccupied with the painful looking injury he suffered on his face.

Derek dragged me along in a sprint like we were training for the Olympiads. We jumped over fallen tree trunks and evaded leaves as I panted, trying to keep up with him. We ran for at least another mile before he finally slowed down into an acceptable pace, letting go of my arm and allowing to me to breathe. I had paid no heed to the direction we ran in, giving my undivided attention to try and fulfill the goal of not falling rather than anything else, really. However, I could hear the distinct sound of traffic not that far away in the distance, so civilization was bound to be near. I could just follow the sound of the moving cars and reach a street I was familiar with, heading home from there.

Derek turned around, glaring at me as I flinched at his fuming expression. I had to hand it to him, poor guy, risking his life in the attempt to save mine (he was totally forgiven for killing my phone).

"Di-did you kill it?" I breathed out, looking behind me as if the monster would appear at any given second and rip me to shreds.

"I stunned it. He'll heal." He replied, through gritted teeth. "What the hell were you doing out there?" He growled out, glowering at me as I tried to catch my breath so I could respond to his furious question.

"I was...just... going for a walk." I offered, grimacing in between pants.

I could almost see the fume coming out of his ears at that. "How about in the future you try to limit your walks to populated secure areas instead of venturing into the middle of the woods alone?" He all but growled, glaring at me.

"I though I was safe. He's only come out during the night so far." I defended myself, shrinking back a bit at his angry expression.

"Well, clearly he's changed habits." Derek bit back, rolling his eyes out of exasperation. "I've got other things to do with time besides saving idiotic teenagers from getting themselves killed, d'you know that?" He rhetorically asked as I remained quiet and averted my eyes to the ground.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, biting back my pride as I kept my eyes down.

He turned around and started walking away as I looked up at his retreating back, questions and doubts bubbling inside me. The alpha had a clear M.O, he only came out at night. If he chose the day, then he really needed to do something he couldn't otherwise do. But me? Why would he come after me of all people, could I have influenced his life in a way? I'm sure I didn't know anyone that turned into a psycho murderous werewolf in their free time, going around cutting people in half.

"Wait!" I called out as he paused and slowly turned around to look at me. "Why was it here?"

"He was after you." He deadpanned, making my eyes widen in shock. Me? _WHAT?_ "Don't come out here alone, again." He all but demanded, turning around again and walking away as I was left standing dumbfounded at his disappearing form, bubbling with questions and doubts about the revelation.

"Wait!" I called out again, but he either didn't hear me (which was highly unlikely because, _werewolf senses)_ or he ignored me, which was what probably happened.

I stood there for a while as I began to feel anger stirring inside me. He couldn't just walk away after dumping a bomb like that on me! He just told me that the alpha, a demented murderous werewolf, had been after _me!_ He should have stuck around to answer at least some of the inevitable subsequent questions, like ' _why?'._

The, I remembered that I was still in the woods, where there was a crazy psycho werewolf out on the loose, one who just tried to kill me and probably wouldn't hesitate at a second change to effectively complete that goal. I started jogging and followed the traffic sounds, reaching a street I was indeed familiar with. It was three blocks away from my house, so I started the walk back, watching the cars drive by as I thought about what my friends were doing right now. Stiles was probably banging his head against the wall, trying to figure out what to do about the Lydia problem. Scott was supposed to be at the parent-teacher conference since his gra-

The parent-teacher conference!

Oh, no. My grades weren't below a C, so I didn't need to attend. But my parents did, and when my mom left Beacon Elementary, she had to drop off my brother home. I was supposed to be home so I could watch over the eight year old while she went to the conference. I looked at my watch and realized the conferences were about to start. If she waited at the house for me with my brother (which she surely did, because the eight year old could not be left home alone), she was already going to be late for the parent teacher conference.

I broke into a run, not caring if I looked like a lunatic and scared away our neighbors (they should be used to this kind of behavior from me by now, anyway) and sprinted to my house, reaching it about two minutes later (that's a record!). I hurriedly climbed the porch steps, jumping two at a time and let myself in, panting heavily from exhaustion. As soon as I entered the house, I saw my mother pacing back and forth in the living room holding her phone to her ear, looking pissed.

Oh, crap. I am _so dead._

As soon as she saw me, she pulled the phone from her ear and all but raced towards me.

"Why weren't you answering your phone?" She inquired, sending me a fuming look.

"I went for a walk and..." I trailed off, cringing at the irate expression on her face.

"Your brother's upstairs. Make sure he does his homework and when I get back, were having a _talk."_ She said, grabbing her purse before rushing out of the house.

I cringed as the front door slammed shut and gulped, thinking about what my punishment would be when my parents got home. Hopefully, they unwind a bit at the parent-teacher conference. Which is a far fetched idea since I'm sure they wouldn't be hearing about my _wonderful_ results. I wasn't that bad of a student, sometimes the opposite really, but lately I haven't exactly had a lot of time on my hands to focus solely on my grades. Improving them wasn't even on the top ten most important things for me to do right now.

I sighed and made my way upstairs, stopping at my brother's bedroom door before peeking inside.

"Hey, Tomkin." I greeted, looking at the eight year old that was lying on his bedroom floor, playing with legos.

I looked with contempt at the little blocks from hell. They were truly something pulled out of a pure nightmare, whoever invented them deserved to burn for all the stabs my poor feet had suffered at the 'hands' of those hellish toys. I think we should all start a revolution and ban all the legos back to legoland where they couldn't continue to terrorize and harm our feet anymore. I'm sure every girl who has a younger brother or parent with a son knows exactly how I feel. How many times have I stepped into one of those things? I've lost count, but it's more than my feet can take.

"Hey." The eight year old replied, not sparing me a glance ad he played with his legos.

"Well... have you done your homework?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows at him when he whirled his head around to look at me like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

Gotcha! Legos go back in the box!

"Maybe..." He trailed off as I smirked. Thinkin' he could fool me, huh? Pfff, I've got eight years on him.

"Oh really? Can I see them, then?" I questioned as my little brother pouted and slowly stood up, sending the legos a sorrowful look before heading towards the backpack he'd dumped in the corner of his room.

"I'll do them now." He replied lowly whilst he crouched down and took out his books.

"You'll do them downstairs, c'mon." I said, resting a hand in the door frame as I waited for him to gather his stuff. Once he had everything he needed, he walked out of the room and I dropped my hand to his shoulder, guiding him downstairs.

We walked into the living room and he sat on the floor between the couch and the tv (which was off, obviously. One thing about children, put even the sightliest bit of technology around them and they won't be able to concentrate on anything besides that) opening his English book and taking a pencil out of its case. I sat on the floor by his side with my legs spread out in front of me, leaning back against the couch as he started doing his homework and Bacon came over to us, lying down by my side. I started petting the two year old beagle absently as I helped my brother with his homework, occasionally answering a question he asked and posing another to get his thinking progress started.

About ten minutes after he started working on his homework, which he'd mostly finished (he was working on math now), he turned towards me with a curious look.

"Where were you before?" He asked **,** gazing up at me.

"Out." I simply replied, trying to avoid giving too much information away.

"Where?" He insisted, sending me an inquiring look.

"I went to the stream." I answered, sighing. I figured I should give him a bit of information because, knowing my brother, if he thought we were hiding something from him, he wouldn't rest until he'd gotten to the bottom of it. And it was imperial that he wouldn't go snooping around, or he could run into some real trouble. So the best course of action was to give in so he wouldn't think I was keeping something from him, which I was, from my whole family, actually. I wonder how long I'll be able to keep this up, not to mention what the repercussions will be.

"I thought you weren't allowed go there?" He asked, frowning with confusion as I shrugged in response. He turned his attention back to his book but looked up again, as if debating something in his mind. "Can you take me there someday?" He inquired and I couldn't help smiling at the hopeful expression on his face.

"Sure, one day." I replied, chuckling when he beamed with joy. "But you have to finish your homework first." I added, tapping his math book as he turned his head back to it and resumed scribbling.

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! Another chapter done and over with. I think this was my favorite chapter to write so far! Although I kept going back to change somethings, it just wasn't like I wanted it, but I think in the end, it worked out.**

 **Don't forget to review and tell me what you think! There's nothing** **I love more than hearing your feedback so I know where to work on,** **what things to develop and so on.**

 **'Till next time ;)**

 **Beijocas da Martocas xoxo**


	6. Heart Monitor

**Cry me a river - Chapter 6: Heart Monitor**

 **A/N: Hi there! So... I know I haven't updated in a _very_ long time (I'm very sorry for that, some things got in the way -like my computer breaking down- and I also experienced a severe case of writer's block...) but I have not lost my will to write this story. Even if it'll take me a very long time. Anyway, sorry! And I'd love to hear your opinion about it! (reviews keep me going, they're like deep fried crack-spn reference, anybody? xD).**

 **Here ya go ;)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own teen wolf or anything you recognize except for my OCs.**

* * *

I huffed, examining the white ceiling of my bedroom out of complete boredom. I was lying on my bed, facing up and contemplating the events of last Monday with frustration.

When my parents came home from the teacher-parent conference, they were _majorly_ pissed, to say the least. I think the last time I saw my mother that upset was when I was nine and broke three of her most expensive china plates (God, she was really mad at me after that). After they were done berating me for how irresponsible I was becoming and saying that they were disappointed in me (conversation throughout which I kept my head lowered in remorse and guilt, though of course I knew they weren't totally correct. I mean, they didn't know about all the drama that's been going on in my life lately, but I had no intention of telling them and ultimately I just resigned myself to the fact that I could do nothing but sulk in silence) they reinforced the terms of my grounding so I was no longer allowed to use my computer (not with them around anyway), watch tv, go out to do something non-school related, generally going out without telling them about it... Basically, anything and everything that could provide me any sort of fun. _Yay!_ Please, _do_ note the sarcasm. I barely managed to convince them not to take away my no longer existing phone (fact they were still blissfully unaware of. I was hoping to keep that particular piece of information under covers for as long as possible), by reminding them that it was crucial in emergencies and essential for communication with people, them included. They didn't look too happy about it, though (obviously), I think they were even pondering on buying me one of those kiddie phones that only lets you call 'Mommy' and 'Daddy'.

So now, I had absolutely nothing to do but sit around and sulk around as I watched time slowly pass by. Needless to say, I was bored out of my mind. I had at least a few hours before my mother got home with my brother, and I knew that I should try to confine myself to the terms of my grounding (I didn't want to make my parents _even more_ pissed, they were scary enough as it is), but I just felt like I was suddenly living under a strict constricting dictatorship (even though by thinking that I risk sounding like just another unappreciative teenager, which I may be at the moment. I don't know, I'm too biased to evaluate my behavior objectively).

I raised my head from the pillow it was resting on and glanced out the window, into the alluring woods. I was literally itching to go outside, but I wasn't so stupid as to commit the same mistake twice. The alpha was bound to be looking for me if he was indeed trying to get to me the other day, as Derek suggested (more like stated, with that typical grumpy face of his). But he could have been wrong, and it is to that thought that I have been clinging to for dear life these past few days. I just hoped it was all a misunderstanding and that the alpha had me confused with someone else, or was just out to kill a totally random person for the hell of it. However, deep down, I knew better, coincidences were a hard thing to come by in this world, and so, I tried to resist the urge of caving in and going for a little walk in the forest that seemed to taunt and tantalize me. It was strange, though, the pull it seemed have on me, like it was calling to me and persuading me into going outside.

On another note, I was still kind of annoyed at Derek for storming off like he did, I mean it was understandable that he might have been pissed, jumping in to save my ass and getting his own handed to him in the process was _probably_ not the highlight of his day, but I would have just liked him to stick around a little while longer just to explain what that encounter with the alpha had been about, explain everything that has been going on. I just get the feeling that I'm standing on unstable ground, like it might come crumbling down any minute and any last ounce of control I had over the situation is long gone, along with my sanity.

I just needed to know what was happening, why the alpha was after us and why everything was changing so freaking much and so freaking fast. I sighed in exasperation and in a fit of frustration, I shot up from the bed and walked over in a quick pace to the chair by the desk, grabbing the leather jacket that rested on it before moving to the hallway and descending the stairs as I put it on, my blond hair swaying up and down in the messy pony tail I had tied it in to keep it out of my face. I stopped briefly after the stairs to pick up my set of keys from the hall table before racing out of the house.

If I was going to do this, I was going to have to be fast and efficient. I could not waste any time that I'd probably need for the trip back. I looked at my watch to check the time and set a mental timer of an hour. That was the time I had to use to get there and come back, hopefully I'll be able to make do with it.

I ran over to the garage, pulling the door up before grabbing the dusty old bike nobody used anymore and exiting the room with it in tow. I dumped it on the grass and closed the door, locking it before picking up the bike and testing it to see if the old thing was still functional. Luckily, It didn't fall apart immediately, so I took that as a win as I sat on it and started pedaling down the street before making a left turn for the woods. Now I just to pray that the alpha decided to take a lazy day off and was not roaming around the forest searching for his next victim, aka me. With that thought in mind, I directed even more force to my feet, concentrating on pedaling with more vigor as I tried to be the fastest I could to avoid unpleasant encounters with the demented ginormous craywolf. One of the only snags with my plan was that I could hit a rock or a tree branch, and given the speed I was currently going at, I would literally be spat out of the bike. I tried to push any negative thoughts from my mind, since they were bound to distract me, and instead focused on the path I was taking so I could have time to detect any obstacles in my way and be able to dodge them or at least brake before hitting them.

The wind was blowing in my face and though it was not in the favor of my movement, it held the stray hairs away from my face and helped keep me freshened up, so I wasn't complaining about that.

I pedaled through the woods as fast as I could and in six minutes I had reached my intended destination with a total of fifty one minutes to spare. I let my bike fall to the side as I stood there uncertain, looking up at the burned down house in front of me as I felt the telltale signs of trepidation beginning to build up in the pit of my stomach. The blackened, color of charcoal, house always left me feeling a sense of dread, kept me thinking about the people that'd died there, innocent and desperate for their lives as the realization that their ending was approaching came over them. I could almost taste the despair and anguish I was sure they'd felt as I regarded the blackened wood and imagined it lighting up in flames, creating a sight of doom. It was not a pleasant feeling.

I remember reading on the police reports that there had been children inside the house at the time of the fire. I shuddered with revulsion at the thought of my little brother burning alive and screaming in pain. _God_ , I would die myself before I ever let that happen to him, I vowed. I shook my head to break free of that horrifying thought and took a deep breath before heading for the house, the leaves crunching beneath my feet as I walked over to the burnt porch.

I climbed the steps and stood in front of the red door, now at a loss for what to do. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, before knocking decidedly on the door. I brought my hand down and listened for any kind of movement from inside the house, however, nothing sounded besides the creepy bird resting on the blackened windowsill of the window above me. After waiting a few more seconds I tentatively gave the door a push, feeling uneasy as it slowly swung open. This had started to feel more and more like the first five minutes of a supernatural episode, and that was definitely _not good._ I did not particularly fancy becoming monster's chow right about now, or anytime, really.

I peeked inside and came across an old decaying flight of stairs, darkened from the fire and mistreatment over the years. Hesitantly, I slowly entered the house, looking around as I examined my surroundings. It seemed inconceivable to me that anyone would chose to live in a place like this, especially Derek. He drove a Camaro, for God's sake. I'm pretty sure he wasn't lacking on the financial department, therefore, why would he chose to live in a burnt down house where most of his family died? He must be a masochist, if he wants to remind himself daily of that kind of pain. Just the thought of something like that ever happening to me made me sick to my stomach.

I turned left and walked inside what once should have been a living room. Its appearance was like most of the house. The walls and floor were burnt and rotting, but a couch and a bit of furniture that obviously hadn't endured the hardships of fire disturbed the scenario. This is where Derek must camp out, judging from the opened black bag resting in the corner by the window with a few t-shirts sticking out. I frowned in confusion as I sighted something else that was out of place and walked over to it, picking up the white piece of cloth that had captured my attention from the couch.

My mouth dropped as it revealed itself to be what I suspected. I stared with incredulity at the shirt held in my hands, frowning with confusion. My lost shirt had finally made a reappearance, in the last place that I ever had thought possible, the old Hale's burnt down house, currently inhabited by one of the hottest human male specimens known to man. What the holly hell?

"What are you doing here?" I heard Derek's grumpy voice suddenly ask as I gasped and jumped in surprise, whirling around to look at the intruder, who glanced at the object held in my hand before looking up at me again.

"What the hell?! You scarred the crap out of me!" I as I tried to calm my erratic heart down, being scared shitless can do that to you. Especially in an old creepy house where a lot of people had died. "You almost gave a heart attack!"

"I think you're safe." He said rolling his eyes. "And _you're_ the one who broke into my house." He stated, giving me an unimpressed look.

"I'm not even sure this can be _legally_ called a house, actually, scratch that, I'm _sure_ it can't. Besides, the door was open. And I came here 'cause you just stormed off the other day without so much as a 'see you later'!" I said as he raised he's eyebrows at me. "Not that I wanted you to say goodbye, I just wanted an explanation for the bomb you decided to drop on me before walking away like you'd just made a little comment on the weather. And what the hell is this?" I rambled on, raising the shirt in my hand and giving him an inquiring look.

He was silent for a few moments as his eyebrows scrunched together, he was probably trying to come up with a plausible excuse for the white shirt I held in my hands. When the silence became too long I raised my eyebrows in impatience and he sighed, which I took as a win.

"It's a shirt." Derek replied, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." I rolled my eyes as he glowered at me in response to my remark. Wow, I think Derek has infected me with all his eye rolling. "It's _my_ shirt. What is my shirt doing here?"

"I took it." He calmly said after a while, raising his eyebrows as I frowned with confusion.

 _What_? He kidnapped my shirt? Why the hell would he want my shirt and what for?

"Why? Are you a kleptomaniac, or just plain stalking me?" I asked, sarcasm dripping into my voice as my frown deepened while I tried to come up with an explanation for his behavior.

"No." He said with irritation seeping into his voice as he rolled his eyes once again. "I took it so I could figure out what you are." He added as I stared at him in incredulity. What? What did he mean 'figure out _what_ I am?' I was human, a boring one at that. Well, at least until one of my best-friends started turning into an oversized puppy every full moon. But besides that, I have what could be called the most ordinary uneventful life in the world. "You smell off." He explained, putting a stop to my mental rambling as I looked up at him again with confusion.

"I smell... _off_? What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to say that I smell?" I inquired in a mix of disbelief, indignation and confusion, my eyebrows rising as I felt slightly embarrassed.

"No." He replied, again with the eye rolling. "Werewolves can _scent_. Your scent isn't normal and I have never came across anything that had one remotely similar to yours. Every person has a different scent, but yours... it's different. You don't smell..."He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. " _Human._ " He settled on, making my eyes widen in surprise as I stared at him in perplexity.

"I don't smell _human?_ Well I'm 99.9% sure that I am. And if you're so sure that I'm not, what do I smell like, then?" I inquired, feeling the slightest bit attacked by his words. I mean, we've established by now that 'not human' doesn't necessarily translate into 'monstrously bad', since Scott is still the same old guy even if partially animal (and really furry) sometimes, so I guess it wouldn't be all that bad if I wasn't entirely human anymore. But I'm pretty sure my body is lacking any transformative bites, so I'm still plain old me. "And how come Scott didn't bring this up too? _He's_ a werewolf." I added as an afterthought. If every werewolf had the ability to scent, surely Scott would have noticed if something was off, right? So what Derek was saying couldn't be entirely true.

"I don't know how to explain it. It's like you... _don't_ _have a scent_ but it's still there, like it's silent, a werewolf could only be able to tell it belonged to a person if they'd met you beforehand. I guess it's similar to water, but slightly different. And _Scott_ didn't say anything because he probably hasn't even noticed it yet. He's a newly bitten werewolf, his senses are all over the place. It's like smelling a lot of perfumes at the same time, you'd be overwhelmed and unable to tell them apart. To him their just scents, he probably just hasn't attributed yours to you yet. He needs training, which is what I can offer him." Derek grumpily explained, shrugging.

"Ok, decent enough analogy. Point taken." I relented as I reflected on the newly acquired information. "But what does it _mean_? I mean, shouldn't all people smell like water? A human being is approximately sixty percent water, so... what makes me so different? And is that a good thing? Water's good, right? In an essential to life kind of way..."

"I don't know." Derek said, cutting off my rambling with an annoyed look. "I just know that there's something not normal about you, and the alpha picked up on that too." He explained, with an expression that clearly stated 'you talk to much'. Huh, I think I'm beginning to decipher 'Derek language', complete with all the moody grumpy expressions, waiving eyebrows and rolling eyes. I deserve a trophy for this! Better get myself some pizza. _Love me some pizza._ "Has anybody ever told you you ask too much questions?"

"Uh, maybe..." I sheepishly said. _"_ Ok... So, I'm taking this back." I stated, holding my shirt up. "Seriously, couldn't you've taken something else? I mean, there must be a _ton_ of things at my house with my scent on it, did you really have to go for my favorite shirt?" I whined as he rolled his eyes. Ok, now seriously, I'm beginning to worry, that amount of eye rolling is definitely not beneficial to someone's health.

I dropped my hand and looked around the living room, suddenly finding nothing else to say. It was one of those times when all the conversation topics had run out and you just stood there staring at each other as the seconds flew by and everything became incredibly more awkward. I looked back at Derek and he raised his eyebrows in an expectant way.

"Right... I'll be going now. And try to refrain from stealing anymore of my stuff in the near future, if you'd be so kind." I said as I walked past Derek and out of the living room, just barely able to hear him scoffing and muttering something that sounded suspicious like 'stupid teenagers'. "Heard that!" I called out as I exited the house and headed for my bike.

* * *

I was walking by Stiles' side, climbing up the steps to Beacon High as he vented to me about Scott. Apparently, our best friend in common had made a fashionably late entrance at the parent-teacher conference, just in time for the big show to go down: an actual mountain lion was caught and gunned down by Chris Argent, aka werewolf hunter and Allison's father, in the school's parking lot, but not before causing moments of fleeting panic and confusion as people raced to their cars so they could get away from the 'ferocious' animal. Sheriff Stilinski had gotten hurt in all the commotion and Scott hand't tried to help him, according to Stiles, but instead trailed after Allison, who was unharmed. Huh, Is it just me, or have our lives suddenly turned into a giant soap opera? With the star crossed lovers, the big bad wolf, tall dark and handsome stranger...

"So we're not talking to Scott?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows at Stiles.

"Of course not! He's officially entered best friend probation and thus, must receive the silent treatment."Stiles declared as we made our way through the hall to our lockers.

"Is your father okay now, though?" I questioned, feeling concern for the sheriff. He was like a second father to both me and Scott, after all. Actually, the sheriff is more of a father figure to Scott than Scott's own father is to him, so I'm sure his beating himself down over this.

"Yeah, but that still doesn't excuse Scott." He replied.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to do what he did, you know him..." I trailed off as Stiles narrowed his eyes at me and I raised my hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. "Don't shoot the messenger!"

We reached our lockers and opened them, taking out our books before closing them and heading to Mr. Westover's class. Let the torture begin! Huh, now that I think about it, Mr. Westover would make a pretty good demon. I wish I could exorcise the hell out of him, and possibly sell his soul to Crowley.

Once we were in the classroom, which was already half full, we took the chairs in the back, Stiles sitting to my right as we placed our books on the table.

I looked at the door and saw Scott, who was looking at Stiles. He walked over to us and took the chair behind Stiles before leaning over the table to ask him something.

"Still not talking to me?" I heard Scott's question as Stiles remained silent.

Scott looked at me, with those pleading eyes of his and I shrugged, sending him an apologetic look as I felt sorry for the guy. Scott sighed and looked down as I looked at Stiles, who was still dead set on ignoring Scott. This was going to be hard.

"Can you at least tell me if your dad is ok?" Scott inquired. "I mean, it's just a bruise, right? Some soft... tissue damage? Nothing... that big..."

Stiles responded by rolling his eyes in irritation and shaking his head, looking down.

"You know I feel really bad about it, right?" Scott sighed. "Ok. What if I told you that I'm trying to figure this thing out and... that I went to Derek for help?" Scott announced as I whirled around to look at him with shock.

"Say _what_ again? I thought you were all in on the 'Hale hate' train." I blurted out, accidentally forgetting the 'best friend code' as Stiles turned to look at me with a betrayed and angry look and Scott seemed relieved for making me cave in. Damn him and his stupidly irresistible puppy eyes.

"Sorry..." I said cringing. "But that was really a shocker. I couldn't help it!" I explained, shrugging as Stiles huffed in frustration.

"If I was talking to you, I'd say that you were an idiot for trust him." Stiles told Scott, breaking the silence treatment (sort of) as I sighed in relief. It's really exhausting when one or both of your best friends are angry with each other. "But obviously I'm not talking to you." Damn, I spoke too soon... or in this case thought...

The bell rang and Stiles sat up straight in his chair as Scott removed his things from his backpack.

"What did he say?" Stiles said after a while, after huffing and whirling around in his chair to look at Scott, officially putting an end to the silent treatment. Yes! I sighed in relief again and slumped back in my chair as Scott smirked at Stiles' eager face.

* * *

"He wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?" Stiles inquired as we left the classroom, Mr. Westover's class _finally_ over. I swear I lose a little bit of my sanity every time I have to endure one, probably not the only one either.

"Yeah." Scott replied, nodding.

"Yeah, well correct me if I'm wrong, but every time you do that, you try to kill someone, and that someone is usually us." Stiles said as I nodded in agreement. Yeah, I think it's for the best if Scott tried to reign his animal side, rather than bringing it out. I mean, sure he has to let it out sometime if he's ever going to be able to control it, but I think he should only do that in a safe secluded place as far away from civilization as he can possibly get.

"Yup. That's true." I voiced my opinion, pursing my lips. "And since I don't really fancy becoming a walking talking piece of _snack_ to you, I suggest you _avoid_ doing so."

"I know." Scott said. "That's what he means when says he doesn't know if he can _teach_ me. I have to be able to control it."

"Yeah, and how's he going to teach you to do that?" Stiles questioned as we both sent Scott inquiring looks.

"I don't know." Scott replied, shrugging his shoulders. "And I don't think he does either."

"Fat lot of help he is." I commented.

"Yeah." Stiles nodded in agreement. "When are you seeing him again?"

"He told me not to talk about it. Just, act normal and get through the day." Scott informed us as Stiles stopped in his tracks and put a hand out to stop Scott.

"When?" Stiles insisted.

"He's picking me up at the animal clinic after work." Scott relented.

"After work." Stiles mumbled. "Alright, well that gives me until the end of the school day." Stiles said as both me and Scott frowned in confusion.

"To do what?" Scott and I questioned in unison.

"To teach you myself." Stiles explained before walking away to his next class (which was different from ours), making me raise my eyebrows in surprise and leaving Scott speechless. Great, when Stiles puts something in his mind, it's damn near impossible to stop him. I just hope that whatever he comes up with won't leave us worst off...

* * *

"Okay." Stiles said as he dumped his lacrosse bag on the bottom seat of the bleachers and rummaged through it, looking for something as his lacrosse stick fell from the bench. "Now... put this on." He told Scott as he pulled out a heart rate monitor and held it out for Scott to take.

"Isn't that one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" I inquired, frowning in confusion as Scott hesitantly took the black strap from Stiles' hands.

"Yeah, I borrowed it." Stiles replied as I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Stole it." Scott corrected as Stiles huffed in annoyance.

"Temporarily misappropriated." Stiles said. "Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs. You're going to wear it for the rest of the day."

"Isn't that coach's phone?" Scott asked and I looked at Stiles' lap where, sure enough, coach's phone was lying.

"That I stole." Stiles admitted as I snorted.

"Why?" Scott inquired with an amused smile on his face.

"Alright. Well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right?" Stiles questioned, raising his arms up at us as we nodded in agreement. "When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate." Stiles explained as I hummed in agreement, he made a decent point.

"Like incredible Hulk." Scott realized as a goofy smile made its way across his face and I snorted at his nerdiness. Not that I didn't have my fair share of it...

"Kind of like the incredible Hulk, yeah..." Stiles shrugged.

"I'm like the incredible hulk." Scott repeated as I rolled my eyes and Stiles huffed in annoyance.

"Shut up and put the strap on." Stiles demanded as Scott snickered and did what was asked.

"What now?" I inquired, looking inquiringly at Stiles.

"Now, we move on to the practice part." Stiles announced, holding out a roll of duct tape and picking up his lacrosse stick as I raised my eyebrows.

He started walking towards the center of the field and I traded a confused with a slightly fearful Scott before we both trailed after him. Once Stiles reached the middle of the field he dropped his lacrosse stick and ripped off a piece of duct tape before motioning for Scott to turn around.

"Hum, why is this is starting to seem more and more like bad fifty shades of grey roleplay?" I questioned as I incredulously watched Stiles restraining poor Scott's hands with duct tape, who was currently staring at me with a very obvious 'Help me! Stiles has gone bonkers!' expression. Said apparently crazy person momentarily stopped his current task to look at me with a confused expression, swiftly followed by Scott.

"Grey shades of what?" Stiles inquired, tilting his head in confusion, very Cas like.

"Not grey sha... Fifty shades of..." I trailed off, smirking despite myself. "You don't want to know..."

"Why no-" Scott started to say but was interrupted by Stiles' disgruntled sounds of disgust.

"Ew.. Lex! What the hell!" Stiles exclaimed making faces as I laughed. " That's not... I'm not... Ugh!" He huffed in frustration before directing his attention back to the duct tape.

"What? I don't... get it?" Scott hesitantly said, looking alternately at me and Stiles.

"You don't want to." Stiles replied as he crouched down to put away the duct tape.

"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period." Scott said as Stiles picked up his bag and backed away from Scott.

"Alright. You ready?" Stiles asked.

"No." Scott replied.

"Remember, don't get angry." Stiles told Scott as he stopped and dropped his bag on the ground.

"I'm starting to think this is a really bad idea..." Scott commented as we both saw Stiles picking up a ball with his lacrosse stick.

"Is he doing what I think he-" My forming sentence was interrupted by the sound of the ball Stiles had sent hurling through the air. It reached its intending target, hitting Scott right in the stomach as I jumped up in surprise and backed away from the line of fire. I didn't fancy getting hit by a ball and sporting a bruise, I didn't exactly have Scott miraculous healing capabilities. Nonetheless, that didn't stop me from being sorry for my best friend and pissed at the other.

"What the hell?" I gasped out in surprise. "Stiles!" I exclaimed, turning to look at said guy, who was currently busy picking up the next ball to throw at Scott. This is how he wanted to get payback for Scott's absence in his dad's time of need?

"What? I'm helping him!" Stiles retorted, throwing another ball at Scott, which hit him in the jaw.

"Oh my god, I think I just heard _bone_ cracking." I said in disgust. "You know what? I'm out. You boys sort out your unfinished business by yourselves, I'll be waiting in the cafeteria." I announced as I turned my back and headed towards the school. If they were going to be buttheads about this I wasn't about to stay and watch.

"Okay...That one kind of hurt." I heard Scott breathe out.

"Quiet, remember, you're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, alright? About staying calm." Stiles replied as I rolled my eyes.

As I reached the bleachers, I sighted Jackson the jackass stopping, as he caught sight of the two idiots in the field and the two muttonheads he was with continued walking.

"What are you looking at?" I inquired at his smirking expression. He was looking particularly pale with huge dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a drug addict, which he could be for all I know.

"What's it to you, Waters?" Jackson replied, raising one eyebrow in his typical derisive way.

"Not looking so good, _Whittemore_." I said rolling my eyes in response as I walked past him and continued my walk towards the cafeteria.

"Mind your own damn business!" He called out, but I decided to not pay him any attention.

* * *

I walked inside the classroom followed by my two best friends who were no longer being complete idiots (thankfully) and we headed for the back of the room. I was about to sit when Scott turned to us with an alarmed expression on his face.

"Somebody sit behind me!" He warned through gritted teeth and I noticed Allison making her way to him. I looked at Stiles with wide eyes as he tried to dump his things on the empty table but Allison was already there.

"Hey." Allison said to Stiles, clearly pissed off, and Stiles retreated with a fearful look on his face, which I couldn't help but snort at. "Hey!" Allison said again, but this time at Scott and with a much more cheery expression on her face.

"Hey..." Scott said back and I sent him an apologetic look as I sat in the sit next to him.

"I haven't seen you all day." Allison added.

"I...yeah. I've been, uh, super busy." Scott explained as I rolled my eyes. Okay, that's got to be the most lame ass excuse ever. I looked back at Stiles who appeared to share my opinion.

"When are you going to get your phone fixed? I feel like I'm totally disconnected from you." Allison asked.

"Uh... soon. Real soon." Scott replied.

"I changed lab partners, by the way." Allison told Scott as I cringed. Not good, Scott was definitely not succeeding in his goal to stay away from Allison.

"Oh. To who?" Scott asked and I mentally facepalmed. Could he be more naive?

"To you, dummy." Allison responded, giving him her 100 watt smile.

"Me? I mean, are you sure?" Scott questioned her as I groaned internally.

"Uh, yeah! This way I have an excuse to bring you home and study." Allison clarified.

"Oh." Scott hummed, looking down.

"You don't mind, do you?" Allison inquired, frowning.

"I just... I don't want to bring your grade down." Scott said.

"Well, I mean, maybe I can bring your grade up." Allison replied as both me and Stiles rolled our eyes. I get that Scott's trying to avoid Allison while he tries to get a hold on his... _furry_ situation, but in case he wants her permanently out of his life, he should dial it down a bit. He was ruining any and all chances he could ever have to get with her once this was all over and dealt with (assuming hopefully that it will). "Come to my place tonight. Eight thirty?"

"Tonight?" Scott inquired.

"Yeah, eight thirty." Allison repeated as coach slammed a book on his desk. Ugh, I really hate it when teachers do that.

"Let's settle down." Coach demanded as I rearranged myself in my seat so I'd be facing forward. "Let's start with a quick summary of last nights reading. Greenberg, put your hand down, everybody know _you_ did the reading." Coach said as he started pacing in the front of the classroom. "How about...uh... McCall!" Coach decided as I cringed. There was no way Scott did the reading, he didn't have time yesterday since he'd apparently been training his control with Derek. Scott looked up from his table, looking surprised and exactly like a deer caught in the headlights. "The reading." Coach repeated.

"Last night's... reading?" Scott inquired.

"Nuh, uh...How about, uh, the reading of the Gettysburg Address." Coach sarcastically suggested as some of the class erupted in snickers. Snickers, yum.

"What?" Scott asked, clearly confused.

"That's sarcasm. You familiar with the term 'sarcasm', McCall?" Coach inquired.

"Very." Scott replied as he looked back at Stiles, who smiled smugly in his seat. Yeah, if there was something I knew was a constant in my life, it was the daily doses of sarcasm I got from Stiles.

"Did you do the reading or not?" Coach questioned.

"Uh...I-I think I forgot." Scott replied.

"Nice work, McCall." Coach sarcastically praised. "It's not like your averaging a 'D' in this class. C'mon, buddy. You know I can't keep you on the team if you have a _D_." Coach added as Scott nodded and looked down. "How about you summarize, uh, the previous night's reading? No? How about, uh, the night before that?" Coach asked as Scott looked down. This is not going to end well, Coach is pushing all the wrong buttons. _Great._ "How about you summarize, anything you've _ever_ read... in your _entire_ life?"

"I, uh..." Scott mumbled as Coach rambled on. We're going to have one seriously pissed off wolf in our hands if he keeps this up. Why does Coach have to be this dramatic?

"No? A blog? How about, uh... how about, uh, the back of a cereal box? How about the, the adults only warning from your favorite website you visit every night? Anything? Thank you McCall, thank you. _Thank you McCall,_ thank you for extinguishing any last _flicker_ of hope I have for your generation. You just blew it for everybody! Thanks, next practice you can start with suicide runs. Or is _that_ too much reading?" Coach finally finished berating Scott and I let out a breath of relief when I noticed Scott hadn't lost control... which was really amazing and frankly, unbelievable. I turned around to look at said boy and realized why he was suddenly so in control of himself... Allison was holding his hand! Awww, that's the cutest thing I've ever seen! Oh my god, those two totally need a ship name! And fast. How about... Allscott? Nah, that's weird...Allisott? That's just plain horrible. Damn.

"Alright. Everybody else, settle down." I heard coach say as I focused on finding a good ship name. How about merging their last names? McArgent, Argecall... No, that's bad too... Uh! I've got it! _Scallison,_ it has a nice ring to it! _Awesome,_ they're totally my next Deanpala.

* * *

"It's her." Stiles announced as we walked down the school's hallway.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked as he looked back and forward, confused.

"It's Allison." Stiles clarified as I nodded in agreement. Yeah, it made sense, Scott didn't flip out in class because Allison was holding his hand, which means she was his tether to reality, sort of... "Remember what you told me about the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her, right? About, uh, protecting her."

"Okay." Scott nodded his head.

"Remember the night of the first lacrosse game?" Stiles inquired. "You said you could hear a voice out on the field."

"Yeah, I did." Scott replied.

"So that's what brought you back so you could score." Stiles explained.

"Yeah." I agreed. "You probably heard Allison and your everlasting undying love for her made your wolfy side back down." I said as Stiles looked at me with his 'whaaa?' face. "Not to mention you didn't kill her in the locker room."

"Not like you were trying to kill us." Stiles nodded. "She brings you back."

"No, no, no. But it's not always true. Because, literally, every time I'm, I'm kissing her or touching her-" Scott said but was interrupted by Stiles.

"No. That's not the same. It... When you're doing that, you're just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex, you know..." Stiles trailed off as a smirk crept onto Scott's face. Okay, this is seriously TMI.

"You're thinking about sex right now, aren't you?" Stiles inquired as Scott looked at us still with that goofy grin on his face.

"Yeah, sorry." Scott said, smirking.

"Eww, dudes. TMI!" I exclaimed, making gag noises. "Last thing I want to hear about is the virtually non-existing sex-life of my guy friends. Seriously."

"He brought it up." Scott said shrugging.

"Well, look. Back in the classroom, when she was holding your hand, that was different. Okay? I don't think she makes you weak, I-I think she actually... gives you control." Stiles explained. "She's kind of like an anchor."

"You mean because I love her." Scott deduced.

"Exactly." Stiles agreed as Scott stared off into the distance, looking like he just realized something very important.

"Did I just say that?" Scott questioned as I smirked. Aww, they're so adorable. Scallison is totally my new favorite ship.

"Yup, my friend. You're hopelessly and irrevocably in love with the silver beauty." I announced dramatically as they both turned to give me confused looks. "Get it? 'Cause her last name is Argent? No? But anyway, yes. You totally just said that."

"I love her." Scott concluded with a dreamy expression.

"That's great! Now moving on..." Stiles said.

"No, no, no. Really, I... I think I'm totally in love with her." Scott smirked, looking totally whipped.

"And that's beautiful. Now, before you go off and write a sonnet, can we figure this out, please?" Stiles asked as Scott stared off into nothing with that silly grin on his face.

"Give the guy a break Stiles. He's reveling in the sea of blissful awesomeness that is teenager love." I replied.

"But he obviously can't be around her all the time!" Stiles exclaimed as Scott seemed to sober up.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry." Scott apologized. "So what do I do?"

Stiles sighed as both of us looked at him, waiting for an idea. He was the one who always came up with plans...

"I don't know... yet." Stiles replied as he looked around the hallway.

"Uh, what are you doing?" I questioned, frowning in confusion at his antics.

"You're getting an idea, aren't you?" Scott deduced as Stiles nodded his head in an affirmative way.

"Yeah." Stiles said.

"Is this idea going to get me in trouble?" Scott asked.

"Maybe." Stiles replied.

"Is this idea going to cause me physical pain?" Scott inquired.

"Yeah, definitely." Stiles responded as I rolled my eyes at them.

"Not again, please." I pleaded with them.

"C'mon." Stiles told us as he turned around and started walking away.

Scott followed suit and, resigned, I trailed after them. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't end up in detention for the rest of the day.

* * *

Great! The next person to suffer _physical pain_ is definitely going to be Stiles... by my hands. Obviously, the plan Stiles had come up with was ridiculously idiotic, for lack of a better word, and severely flawed. Which had given us a one way ticket to an evening in detention, and the best part... wait for it... with _Harris_! It's definitely my _lucky day_!

Stiles apparently decided it was a good idea to let Scott get beat up by a bunch of jocks and in the process, Harris caught us red handed and sent us to detention. Which didn't make any sense at all! I mean, explain this to me: you find four jocks beating the hell out of a poor guy huddled in the ground and your first response is to send the _victim_ to serve the time? _Somebody_ is seriously lacking in the mental department if you ask me...

"Excuse me, sir." Scott called out as Harris raised his eyes from his papers to look at him. "I know it's detention and all, but, uh... I'm supposed to be at work, and I don't want to get fired..." Scott explained as Harris promptly ignored him. What a son of a bitch (pardon my french, I'm not one to use it very often but this guy had it coming). "You knew I would heal." Scott said as he leaned back in his chair, this time talking to Stiles.

"Yup." Stiles replied.

"So... you did that to help me learn?" Scott sort of asked.

"Yup." Stiles repeated.

"But partially to punish me." Scott concluded.

"Yeah!" Stiles exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing in world, which kind of was. "Well, that one's obvious."

"Dude, you're my _best friend_ and I... I can't have you being angry with me." Scott said as Harris slowly raised his head to look at the boys.

"I'm not angry anymore." Stiles replied. "Look, you have something Scott. Okay? Wether you want it or not... you can do things that _nobody_ else can do" Stiles said as I remained quiet. If there was one thing I had learned over the years is that I should never get between them when they kissed and made up, ha! Kissed and made up! That's funny... 'cause they're straight dudes, you know? I'll shut up now... "But you don't have a choice anymore. It means you have to do something."

"I know. I will." Scott assured Stiles.

"Alright." Harris said, making all three of us look up at said assbutt. "The three of you, out of here."

"Thank you." Scott replied as we picked up our stuff and hurried out of the door before Harris changed his mind and decided to keep us there as his little pet animals.

We parted at the entrance of the school, me and Stiles heading for his good old trusty jeep and Scott grabbing his bike. We remained silent as Stiles started the engine and pulled off the school's parking lot.

We'd made it almost all the way to my house when Stiles' phone chimed. He checked it before turning to look at me.

"Scott needs our help. He told us to come pick him up at the vet clinic." He said, putting his phone down.

"Okay. Let's go." I replied, conscious that I wasn't supposed to go anywhere after school since I was grounded, but I'd already gotten detention for the day and that was definitely not going to bode well with my parents, so what the hell. Might as well go for it, better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

"I thought you were grounded." Stiles said slash asked.

"I am. But Scott needs us, right? And besides, when have I ever been able to say no to the two of you?" I joked as Stiles turned the jeep around headed back up the road. "I just hope this time we don't end up in jail or something. That ought to be hard to explain..."

We picked Scott up at the animal clinic and he filled us in on the situation. We were going to the school to meet up with Grumpy eyebrows (totally going to start calling him that) who thought Scott's boss was the alpha, and we were now supposed to miraculously come up with a plan to prove the alpha was actually someone else.

"So what's the plan? Or are we just going in guns blazing and totally unprepared?" I inquired, leaning forward in the back sear to get my head between them.

"I have an idea." Scott announced as we both looked at him.

"And... All the suspense is seriously unnecessary, Scotty." I urged him on.

"I'll howl." Scott revealed as we both looked incredulously at him.

"You'll what?" Stiles inquired.

"You said wolves howl to signal their location to the rest of their pack. So, if I howl, then we can prove Deaton's not the alpha!" Scott replied, seemingly satisfied with himself.

"Yeah, and in the meantime, draw out an incredibly insane and demented alpha werewolf hell bent on killing us all. Have you taken a minute to reflect on your seriously flawed plan?" I questioned Scott who shrugged his shoulders, seeming a bit nonchalant. "Is any of what I'm saying actually registering in your brain?"

"Look, it's the best plan we've got." Scott said as I huffed in frustration.

"It's the _only_ plan we've got!" I replied.

"Exactly! You've got a better one?" Scott shot back as I slumped back in my seat, admitting defeat.

"Well, just so you know, If I die I'm haunting the hell out of your ass for the rest of your soon to be short-lived life." I retorted as Stiles finally reached the school.

"Did you bring something that will get us into the school?" Scott asked as we exited the jeep.

Stiles headed to the back of the jeep before opening the trunk and picking up bolt cutters. Wow, ok, did he just carry those things around? Like, uhh, bold cutters, might come in handy!

"So we're really going to go through with this?" Stiles inquired.

"You have a different idea?" Scott replied.

"Well personally I'm a big fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it just goes away." Stiles said.

"I second that." I added just as a sleek black Camaro rolled into the parking lot.

"He's here." Scott announced, ever the captain obvious.

Derek exited his car, looking as sexy as ever (seriously, I've only seen guys like that on tv, it's _uncanny)._

"Where's my boss?" Scott inquired as Derek walked around the front of his car.

"He's in the back." Derek replied as we looked at the back window where, sure enough, Scott's boss was lying tied and gagged.

"Oh. He looks comfortable." Stiles commented sarcastically before Scott started walking away towards the school and we trailed after him.

"Hey hey! What are you doing?" Derek inquired as we turned to look at him.

"You said I was linked with the alpha." Scott replied. "I'm going to see if you're right."

We resumed walking to the school and headed to the office.

"Ok, one question. What are you going to do if the alpha doesn't show up?" Stiles asked as we entered the office.

"I don't know." Scott replied.

"And what are you going to do if he _does_ show up?" I inquired as Stiles turned on the microphone.

"I don't know." Scott repeated.

"Good plan." Stiles commented as I nodded my head in agreement. "Wait. If the alpha shows up because you howled, does that mean you're part of his pack?"

"I hope not." Scott said.

"Me too." I added as Stiles picked up the microphone and put it in front of Scott.

"Alright." Stiles announced. "Ok, all you."

Scott cleared his throat before making the most miserable sorry excuse for a howl ever. I'm not even exaggerating, he sounded like a thousand dying cats in sync.

"Was that ok? I mean, that was a howl, right?" Scott inquired as both me and Stiles facepalmed.

"Yeah, technically." Stiles replied.

"Well, what did that sound like to you?" Scott inquired.

"Like a cat being choked to death, Scott." Stiles said.

"What do I do? How am I supposed to do this?" Scott questioned us, looking frustrated.

"Hey, hey." Stiles said as he made his way to Scott. "Listen to me. You're calling the alpha, alright? Be a man. Be a werewolf, not a teen wolf. Be a werewolf."

"Yeah. Channel your inner wolf." I added.

We both stepped back and waited as Scott prepared himself for a (hopefully) manly howl. And he didn't disappoint. The entire school- hell, the entire _district_ \- vibrated with the sound.

After we congratulated Scott on his manly howl, we headed back outside where Derek was literally _fuming_.

"I'm gonna kill all of you." He said, pointing at us. "What the hell was that? What are you trying to do? Attract the loud entire state to the school?"

"Sorry. I didn't know it would be that loud." Scott replied smugly.

"Yeah, it was loud." Stiles scoffed. "And it was _awesome_!"

"Shut up." Derek shot back.

"Don't be such a sourwolf." Stiles retorted as I snorted and Derek frowned. Oh my god, I am _so_ going to steal that one. It's too precious!

"Do I need to remind you why this is such a bad idea?" Derek inquired, looking at me. Right, the part where the alpha was supposedly after me. "Lexie?"

Stiles' and Scott's heads shot up to look at me with questioning looks.

"What is he talking about, Lex?" Stiles questioned me.

"I... Uhm..." I said as Derek rolled his eyes.

"You're not the only one he's after, Scott." Derek revealed.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, looking between Derek and me. "Did he bite you too?!"

"No! I'm not a werewolf! I'm not anything!" I hurriedly excused myself. "Derek said he's after me because my scent isn't normal. I don't know!"

 _"Derek said_? Since when did you two talking become a thing?" Stiles inquired as Derek rolled his eyes.

"Why don't yo-" Derek started to say before he was interrupted by Scott.

"Guys, where is my boss?" Scott asked as we both turned to look at the backseat.

A grunt brought our attention back to Derek. I stared, horrified as he was lifted into the air by his back and a black blood-like substance started gushing out of his mouth.

"Oh my god!" I shrieked as the alpha became visible behind Derek, his red eyes terrifying in the dark of the night.

Stiles and Scott scrambled back, one of them grabbing my arm and tugging me along with them.

"Come one, Lexie!" Stiles said as I turned around so I wasn't running backwards, which was the most effective way to make me fall on the ground.

We raced into the school just as the alpha threw Derek into a wall.

"What are we going to do? Oh my god!" I said, freaking out as Stiles and Scott tried to barricade the door with the bolt cutters. "Is he dead? Is Derek dead?"

"We don't know, ok?!" Stiles yelled back.

"Everybody calm down! We can't think if we're at each other's throats!" Scott said.

"We can't think if we're _dead!"_ I replied with a bit more sarcasm than necessary. Well, excuse me, I just saw someone die! _Oh my god,_ Derek's _dead._ This can't be happening.

"Hey, the alpha's gone." Stiles announced.

"What?" Scott and I both asked at the same time as we stared out of the door's window.

"He disappeared." Stiles said.

* * *

 **A/N: So another chapter (finally) done! Again, I'm really sorry for the delay and I also apologize in advance for the time it will take me to publish the next chapter, since my computer was fixed but came back with another problem and so, it needs to go back and I'll be computerless for a bit longer :(**

 **Additionally** **, I feel the need to explain the fifty shades of grey and why they didn't know it. Just a reminder that I'm writing this from season 1 and at that time the book was very recent and not widely know xD.**

 **'Till next time!  
Xau & Beijocas da Martocas! xoxo**


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